Say Goodnight, Not Goodbye
by Kadi219
Summary: Raydor/Flynn - Fourth in the Luck 'verse, follows a few months after Family. When a case hits close to home, the family pulls together. Sometimes letting go isn't as easy as holding on, when questions are left unanswered. Warning: Character death, but not a main character.
1. Chapter 1

Say Goodnight, Not Goodbye

by Kadi

Rated: T

Disclaimer: None of the Major Crimes characters belong to me. It's just a sandbox that I enjoy visiting from time to time. I promise to give all the toys back when I'm done with them.

**A/N:** Special thanks and appreciation goes out to **deenikn8** for the beta. Any errors still found are all mine, and not hers. You were wonderful, thank you dear!

This is #4 in what I have started calling the _Luck 'Verse_. It follows _Family_. Many, many thanks to everyone who has commented or read the stories. You're all so great!

* * *

"Any plans for break?" Nicole Dyer glanced across the row of three pool-side lounge chairs, of which she was occupying one, to her stepsister. It was March in California and already the temperatures were moving toward the warmer side of the 80s; the sun was shining brightly.

With her face turned toward the sky, vintage Chanel shades covering her eyes, Katherine Raydor smiled. "Oh, you know… just the usual. Wild parties, drunken orgies, all the things we do when mom and dad aren't around to _police_ the joint." Katie slanted a look back at her from the corner of her eye. She had been living in Los Angeles for several months now. Although her dancing career was now over, she was still seeing a physical therapist twice a week. She still had hope that she might dance again, at least in a teaching capacity. In the meantime, she was attending classes at USC and working on a second Bachelor's degree in Business and Economics. She was thinking she might open her own dance studio one day, _far_ into the future, and thought she should have some idea of _how_ to do that. Katie smirked where she sat. The sun felt entirely too good, even on her too fair skin. "We're going to get a couple of kegs, some pot, maybe some E and invite lots of people we don't really know."

"I can hear you." Sharon lifted her head and slipped her shades up so that she could fix her daughter with a pointed glare. "You do recall that I am sitting right here, yes?" Planned months in advance, Sharon and Andy were flying east over the week of spring break to visit his family in New Jersey. His aunt Madeline, his mother's only remaining living sibling, was turning ninety. Both of Andy's parents were long since gone, but he had his mother's sister, and aunts and uncles on his father's side as well. Then there were _his_ siblings, and the cousins. As she understood it they could give her own family a run in size, and then some. Sharon could now say, however, she understood why Andy was the way that he was. It was his mother's side of the family that gave him his Italian heritage. The Flynn's were old, Jersey Irish. It was going to be an interesting week.

"Yes, yes," Katie waved a hand at her without looking up. "You're not going to be here, so it isn't going to matter. That's the whole point. I gave up trying to hide wild, drunken parties from you _years_ ago. I figured it was best if Rusty never learns."

Sharon looked at her stepdaughter, seated on her other side. "Are you hearing this?" She hooked a thumb at her daughter. "Did she really just say that it wouldn't matter whether I'm here or not?"

"I think so." Nicole tipped her shades into her blond hair and glanced at her stepsister, who was completely unrepentant. "Definitely. She doesn't look the least bit concerned either." Her sparkling eyes and half grin were all Flynn.

"I thought not." Sharon arched a brow at her daughter. "Katherine, I was mistaken in operating under the assumption that my grown children could be trusted to remain home, alone, at least for a few days. Do the words _house _and _sitter_ have any meaning at for you?"

Her lips pursed, her head tilted. "You know, they could. I think it depends entirely upon whom you intend to engage for the interim. Any thoughts?"

Sharon tipped her shades back down and lay back again. "Lieutenant Provenza."

"Right." Katie lifted her head to look across her mother at Nicole. "Homework, shopping, and apartment hunting."

Nicole laughed as she leaned back in her seat. "Sounds like fun." She turned her face back toward the sun. "I thought you were going to wait until Summer to move?"

"We're shopping," Katie said. "Not moving. It will probably take that long to find something big enough for both of us."

Sharon exhaled loudly. "Probably."

Nicole and Katie both lifted their heads again, shared a look. "Months at the very least," the former stated with a grin.

"Mmhm." Katie tilted her head. "Might even take all summer to move." She slanted a look at her mother and grinned. "Once, of course, the neighborhood has been perfectly vetted. Poor mom, all the birdies are leaving the nest." She pressed her lips into a thin line to keep from laughing. "Again."

"With any luck, for good this time." Sharon said drily. Rusty was moving out, although not very far. He and Katie had decided to get something together, closer to the University. It would give him the opportunity to be on his own, so to speak, in the more normal sense, without being completely alone.

"Then she can have sex wherever and whenever she wants in the house and Rusty doesn't have to walk in on it anymore," Katie chirped happily.

"I can understand where that would be a plus," Nicole said haltingly, while trying hard not to laugh.

Sharon drew a breath and let it out slowly. "I can't tell you how very excited _I _am about that prospect," she deadpanned. "You are a rotten child."

"I'm being maligned for being honest?" Katie sniffed. "Well, how do you like that."

"I think you're being maligned for saying it out loud," Nicole explained. "I'm pretty sure we all know what they're going to be up to about three seconds after the moving van leaves, it doesn't need to be discussed. I'm going on the record with a very blatant _yuck_."

"That would be why she is the favorite," Sharon explained.

"I still think it's the grandmother thing," Katie said. "As grandpa is always telling us, after a certain age, they begin to fret for babies to spoil. You should get right on that," she told Nicole.

"Oh sure," Nicole laughed. "Let me pencil that right in for you… Right after dance class, rehearsal, recital, PTA, car pool, and play dates. Oh, and little league. Devon wants to play t-ball, and Jake and I agree that the boys should experience different things. So yes, absolutely, we'll put it on the schedule for you."

"Your father is going to be beside himself." Sharon smiled. "It has to be said, if you and Jake are interested in having another child, all of that will work itself out."

"We know." Nicole replied. "We just thought we'd let everything calm down first. It was an interesting year."

"No arguments here," the other two chirped together.

They each leaned back, getting comfortable. The peaceful silence descended once more. Until the patio door opened.

"That looks like trouble." Andy chuckled when the three heads lifted and they scowled, almost in perfect unison, at him. "I take it back. That _is_ trouble." He walked toward them and leaned over to kiss his wife. "Contractor is gone. Your cabinets are in," he drawled, not altogether pleasantly. If there was any one profession he despised, almost above all others, it was contractors. His wife knew this, and yet, she had inflicted project after project upon him. They were done now, he hoped.

Sharon tilted her head to the side. She smiled sweetly up at him. "Thank you, dear." She stretched her legs and then rose gracefully from the pool lounge. Sharon stepped into her sandals and then lifted onto the balls of her feet to press a kiss to his mouth. "I know just how much you enjoyed overseeing that for me. It means a lot, really."

"I bet." He stepped back and waved his arm toward the house, so that she could go in and see the finished product.

"Hm." She sashayed ahead of him toward the house. "Attitude like that, and I won't let you help me break them in."

"Now, let's not be too hasty, Sharon." Andy hurried to catch up, his arm snaked out and caught her waist. He drew her back to him. He turned his face into her neck and they walked into the house together.

Katie waited for the door to close again before lifting her head. "They wonder _why_ we're moving out?"

Nicole laughed. "You might want to text Rusty and warn him. It would be just his luck that he'll get home and head right to the kitchen for a snack."

She thought about it for a moment. "Nah, it's good for him. Builds character."

"You really are a rotten child," Nicole decided.

"Well I am my mother's daughter," she drawled. "Learned from the best."

"I am really starting to believe that," Nicole chuckled.

Inside the house, Andy caught Sharon's arm before she could enter the kitchen and drew her back again. "Before you go in there," He began, "there's something you should know." He turned her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "It may not be _exactly_ what you asked for," he hedged.

Her lips pursed, her head tilted. "Okay," she said at length. Sharon had spoken to the contractor at length, picked out the cabinets herself, and then _allowed_ Andy to oversee the process. It was his _reward_ for bringing an argument they'd had at work home with him, and she was fairly certain that he'd learned his lesson. Sharon folded her arms over her chest while her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, it isn't _exactly_ what I asked for? I left no room for interpretation. I practically drew a diagram, _Andy…"_

"Well," he shrugged. "You know how contractors are. Give them an inch, they take half the state. Now, before you get upset. It isn't _bad_," Andy turned her slowly. "I just don't want you going in there with certain expectations." He prompted her slowly forward, and once they'd cleared the kitchen, he leaned against the door frame, hands tucked into his pockets. The smell of sawdust, glue and paint still hung heavily in the air.

"Yes, but I didn't give them room for an inch," she was saying. "I specifically—" She drew to an abrupt stop and let her gaze slowly circle the room. Sharon inhaled sharply. The dark, cherry wood cabinets were in place, along with the lighter, gray and charcoal swirling granite counter tops. It went much better with the rest of the house, and the lighter walls in the kitchen. The old butcher block breakfast table was gone too, replaced by a matching glass-topped cherry wood set. The surprise came with the appliances. Sharon had neither expected, nor planned for that. The kitchen was modernized some years before, but it seemed that her husband had gotten one over on her. The baking trolley they used as a center island was gone as well, replaced now by the real thing, complete with new electric range at one end. The old stove was gone, a refrigerated wine rack had replaced it. A hanging storage rack had even been added above the center island.

"Like I said," Andy drawled. "Might not be exactly what you _asked_ for." If it made her happy, and he was dealing with the contractors anyway, he saw no reason not to go all out. If the lady wanted a new kitchen, he would give her a new kitchen. Although, to be honest, she had only wanted more storage space. Andy watched bewilderment give way to delight. She asked for such simple things in life. She turned his bachelor cave into a home, what were a few hours spent keeping an eye on the scourge of the working class world. Or a few days, actually, since the project had taken that long to complete.

The gleaming stainless of the appliances went beautifully with the rest of the kitchen set. "Really?" She smiled brightly at him. "You know how I feel about surprises, Andy."

"I figured I'd risk it this once," he pushed away from the door and walked toward her. Andy slipped an arm around her waist and drew her to him. "We were probably gonna want to do it in a couple of years anyway, now was as good a time as any, yeah?"

"Yeah." She pulled him down and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Thank you. I love it." Sharon glanced toward the wine rack. Her smile brightened all the more. "Gavin is going to love it too."

"As long as Gavin is happy, nothing else matters," Andy drawled teasingly. "My world is now complete." He dropped another kiss to her mouth, then hoisted his laughing wife into his arms. His shoulder gave a protesting twinge, but it was more or less healed now. It ached more now, than it had before, and hurt like a bitch when it stiffened up, but three months later he was as mended as he was likely to get at his age. He set her on the edge of the new center island, and grinned. "Knew that would be perfect."

She laughed, a low, throaty sound in the remodeled room. "You know, this inability of yours to keep your hands to yourself in communal locations is why the kids are moving out."

"I see your point." His head inclined while he pretended to ponder it. "I should do something about that." Andy dropped his mouth to her collar bone, drawing another laugh.

"_Andy_." She gave his shoulders a light shove and shook her head at him. "You're incorrigible."

"Doesn't sound like you're complaining to me." His hands dropped to rest loosely at her hips. "You know, I like the little brats—" He laughed when she pinched him. "At some point, the grown children have to move out of the house, Sharon. I get it, I do. Thing is, Katie is doing great, she is well on her way back. Rusty is… he's ready. He can't live with you forever, babe. Besides, it's a few miles, not a few states. I think you'll be okay, and so will they."

"Hm." Her lips pursed. "I have no problem with them moving out, at some point even _I_ get to be selfish. I just see no reason to push them out the door by acting like a couple of sex-crazed teenagers." Sharon drug her teeth across her bottom lip. Her eyes were sparkling. "I just think we should keep in mind that we're not exactly young anymore. Someone is going to end up breaking a hip."

"Uh huh." Andy reached up and rubbed his top lip. "I see." He nodded slowly. "Well, there's only one thing we can do about that." Although he grunted at the effort, and it made his back and knees protest, however mildly, Andy tossed her over his shoulder. He started out of the kitchen and toward the stairs.

"You're insane," she laughed. "Andy, put me down before you throw out your back. I will _not_ approve time off due to injury for acts of lunacy."

"Yeah, who's bringing work home now? We had a very long chat about that, as I recall. If I can't be mad at you _here_ for stuff that you do at the office, then you can't threaten me with office stuff, for things that I do here. See, you didn't think I was listening, it wasn't all about the makeup sex. I was paying attention before that too." He nodded to the figure coming out of the foyer. "Hey kid. Don't mind us. We're headed upstairs. The girls are out back, you're going to want to order out. Oh, might want to turn on a stereo or something."

"_Andy_." Sharon groaned. "Oh god."

"I love when you rehearse for me, sweetheart." He started up the stairs with her, smirking as he went.

"I cannot believe that I married such a lunatic," she said. "You know, I'm really starting to think you're getting worse in your old age. I thought you were nuts before, but I obviously had no idea—"

Rusty shook his head as they disappeared up the stairs. "They're both insane," he decided. He grabbed a couple of bottled waters from the cooler under the breakfast bar, where they had been keeping such things during the remodel, and walked out to the patio.

His sisters lifted their heads. "From the look on your face," Nicole said, "I'm going to assume that she _really_ liked it."

"I don't want to talk about it." Rusty dropped into the chair previously occupied by Sharon. He passed waters to both before leaning back. "I do think that one of us should go to Medical School. Or get Tony to move in. The whole cop thing on this side of the family is great, but one of them is going to end up getting hurt." He paused. "Although, you've got to admire their tenacity."

"If that's what you want to call it," Katie snorted, then laughed. "Oh god, could you imagine having to explain that to your doctor?"

Nicole snickered. She draped a hand across her stomach as it turned to outright laughter. "No, sir, I don't know how I dislocated that…"

"You are both sick." Rusty shook his head. "Somewhat demented, slightly deranged. Just for the record." The corners of his mouth twitched. "Mildly amusing." The girls continued to laugh and he sighed. "I can't believe I know any of you." They were infectious, though, and he chuckled quietly at their antics.

"Oh, just think Rusty," Katie managed after a moment. "In a few days, they'll be gone for an entire week. Their behavior will be someone else's problem on the other side of the country. We get a reprieve."

"Time off for good behavior," Nicole added. "The inmates are getting a day pass from the asylum."

"I thought we were the inmates," Rusty asked.

"It's subjective," Katie chirped. "We are obviously so much saner than they are."

"Obviously," he nodded.

Nicole was drumming her fingers against the armrest of her lounger. "So, about that party…"

Katie grinned. Rusty groaned. It was going to be a great week.


	2. Chapter 2

Say Goodnight, Not Goodbye - Chapter 2

by Kadi

Rated: T

* * *

"So when exactly are you supposed to get there? I thought you said it wasn't that far from Newark? Where is it anyway? I can't even find a town called Ellison on the map," Rusty's voice came from the speaker of Sharon's phone.

"Five minutes, give or take," Andy replied, before Sharon could. They had been in New Jersey for only an hour, and so far the trip hadn't gone badly. Even with the three hour delay at their layover in Chicago due to rain. "And it's Edison," he replied. "You know, like Thomas. You should know this." He shot a look at his wife. "What are they teaching these kids in school now days? Or do they teach them anything at all. Why teach, they've got google." Andy shook his head sighed.

Sharon managed to suppress a smile. She glanced at her husband in the driver's seat of their rental, and shifted her phone into the opposite hand so she could lay her left on his arm. "We'll be there soon, Rusty. We only called to let you know that we'd landed and to check on everything there."

"No, really?" They could almost hear the teenager rolling his eyes at them. "It's fine. You've been gone a whole eight hours, or something like that. The house is still standing, but Katie's doing body shots with the entire USC Swim team. Don't worry though, if it gets too loud, I'll call the cops."

"Funny guy," Andy drawled. "Comes by it naturally, gets it from his mother." He shot a rather wry look at his wife. "You know, I'm seeing a trend here. All your kids are real comedians."

"They are," she agreed. "Rotten every one of them. Where did I go wrong?" Her brow arched, her head tilted. "Maybe we should start over with a younger model, something in a grade school age perhaps? Of course, we'd need to wait a few more years before adding that hot tub to the—"

"Like I said, gets it from his mother," Andy smirked. "We shouldn't be hasty. We could end up with a lot worse."

"Mmhm." Sharon flashed a too sweet smile. "Precisely. Rusty, we'll check in again in a couple of days. Enjoy your break." Sharon ended the call and stared at him. "_My_ children are comedians? Really? What does that make Tony?"

"Flynn." He grinned at her. "That says it all."

"Truer words," She said drily. Sharon rubbed his arm. She knew that he was nervous. Andy hadn't been home in quite some time. Only once since getting sober, in the early years, when it was still a struggle. It had put him on edge, which made for quite a day as far as traveling was concerned. Andy had been grumbling for the better part of the day. The lines at LAX were too long, the landing into O'Hare too bumpy, and then there was the delay in getting out of Chicago. She knew that the bad tempered grumbling was just his way of coping, but her own patience began to wear thin somewhere over Pennsylvania. She was glad they were on the ground now, and almost to their destination.

They had booked a room at a local inn, but Andy's sister wouldn't hear of it. They would be staying in her guest room, which was Andy's old room, in the house that they'd all grown up in. Sharon watched him from the corner of her eye as they drove through town. It was lovely, in the historical sense, and the quaint way that small townships always were. It was Andy, however, that drew her attention. He had a tight grip on the steering wheel, but when her hand moved along his arm again, he let it slip into his and lifted her hand to his mouth. He glanced at her, but his eyes were covered by the shades he wore.

"Most of old downtown and the neighborhoods haven't changed," he said, gesturing idly as he drove. "It's always weird, comin' back. Like it hasn't been that long at all." Andy held on to her hand, while maneuvering through traffic with the other. "I came back out here for a few days after Amanda and I split and she took the kids. I was too drunk for most of the trip to remember much. Then I visited again a few years later, but that was just…" He sighed. It had been awkward, coming home again, sober and not the mean, bad tempered drunk his family knew him to be. That wasn't to say he hadn't seen any of his family, his sister and her husband had been out to LA a few times. He spoke to her regularly.

Sharon smiled warmly at him. She understood the awkwardness of facing your family when all your mistakes were well known. "A long time ago," she said gently. "A lot has changed since then, including you. Your family knows that." Her hand slid beneath the cuff of his leather jacket to curl around his wrist, gentle, comforting. "Andy." She could feel the tension running through him. "It's going to be okay."

"Yeah," he sighed again. "I know." He glanced at her, took her hand again. "I know," he repeated, more convincingly this time. The closer they got to his family home, the more pensive he became. Andy concentrated on the feel of his wife's hand in his as he turned down the old lane. There were cars parked along the curb in front of the house, and two in the drive. Andy found an empty spot at the curb and parked the rental. He gazed out at the house, through the passenger side window. It hadn't changed much. New roof, paint, and the yard had changed some, but the house was overall the same as it had always been. The old detached garage stood open, and inside Andy could see the covered figure of the old Chevy his dad had owned, rebuilt, and tinkered with for as long as Andy could remember. At least until he'd died years before.

The house stood as solid as he remembered. Two stories, and an attic. Brick and siding, and the concrete porch with thick stairs leading down. "Come on," Andy pushed open the door and got out of the car. He rounded the hood and Sharon's door as she opened it, reached for her hand again as she stood. Her head tilted when he pushed the door closed, she watched him inquisitively. Andy shook his head. "Hasn't changed much, that's all."

"Hm." She laid a hand against his chest, let it stroke slowly to his waist before she leaned into his side when he guided her toward the stone walkway leading to the house. Beneath the leather jacket, he wore the light green button down that she loved so much, and a pair of casual slacks. Beneath her own jacket she was in jeans and a sweater, but when his arm dropped over her shoulders, she leaned closer. It was cooler in New Jersey, much cooler than the climate they'd left behind. They had packed accordingly, but she still wasn't accustomed to the change. It was hard to believe, in the chilly March air, that just a few days before she had been lounging beside her pool.

Andy felt her shiver and chuckled. "California girl," he pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "Hard to believe you love the snow so much."

"Snow is for Christmas," she said. "It's Spring." Sharon pouted playfully up at him. "I miss the sun."

"It'll come out, you'll be fine," he teased. "It's not quite Spring up here, they've got a few weeks to go." Andy rested his hand against the small of her back as they walked up the steps onto the porch. "You know, there are guys that would pay good money to know that you despise the cold, outside of Christmas, of course. Provenza and I could make a small fortune proving that you're not really the Ice Queen."

Sharon's lips pursed. "Is that so." Her lashes fluttered and she tilted her head at him again. She hummed. "One would think that you don't really _need_ to prove anything."

It was that too saccharine tone, the one that set off warning bells inside his head. Andy grinned down at her. "Well, _I_ don't, obviously. I meant for all the other bozos around the LAPD. The ones that are still scared of you."

"That would defeat the purpose of their still being scared of me. We wouldn't want to completely undo my reputation. I spent years building it, you know." Her eyes glittered playfully.

"I know," Andy said drily. "Believe me, _I_ know. You practiced most of it on me." When her brow arched, he shook his head. "Which I fully deserved. I guess you have a point. If they're still scared of you, they don't screw with us. Come to think of it," Andy said, "no one gives us any trouble anymore, not since you took over. I haven't gotten into it with anyone from Narcotics in forever. I'm going to have to fix that, I don't want 'em getting complacent."

"Certainly not," she rolled her eyes at him. "Just make sure I don't have too much paperwork to fill out when you're done."

"Yeah, no problem." He waved a hand through the air. "I'm an expert at screwing with those guys." Still grinning, he slipped his shades off and reached up to rap his knuckles against the frame of the old storm door.

The big oak door on the other side opened, and a slightly older woman stood there. Her dark hair framed her face in a short bob, but was streaked through with silver. Still, she was a lovely woman, slender by not entirely thin. Her eyes narrowed at them, and her hands went to her hips. "Well, it's about time." She spoke with the thick, Jersey timber that Andy displayed at times. "I was wonderin' if you were actually going to show your face. How many times have you promised to come out, see the family," she shook her finger at him, "Not once did you actually do it. Always workin', or some such excuse after another. Well! Look at you. You got old."

Andy snorted and pulled open the storm door. "Yeah? You're one to talk. I seem to recall that you're older than I am. By how many years?" He was grinning, even when she slapped his arm, and drew her into a hug that lasted several long moments. Some of the tension dissipated in that moment. When he stepped back, Andy's arm circled his wife again. "Elaine, this is my Sharon." His dark eyes were sparkling. "My _older_ sister," he said to his wife.

"Still hasn't learned how to behave," Elaine shook her head. Her gaze swept the woman with her brother, the one that she had heard so much about. She watched the look that passed between them, amused and admonishing all at once, and her brother winked in return. He was completely unrepentant, and this woman with him just nudged his side and smiled. The exchange took only a second, barely the space of a heartbeat, but she gleaned a lot in that moment. She was accustomed to his antics, and amused by them more than anything. Not at all like the last one. That pushed her up a notch or two in Elaine's book. She held out a hand, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Sharon. Andy has been telling us so much. I was beginning to think that he'd made you up."

"I think that might depend on what he's told you." Sharon took her hand and was drawn into the house. "He likes to exaggerate. The pleasure is mine. Andy has been tossed into the fray with my family, it's nice to meet more of his." She had met his brother and sister-in-law at Nicole's wedding, but they'd only spoken for a moment. She had spent much of the time engaging in her purpose for being there, providing a buffer between him and the ex-wife.

"That's right," Elaine said. "Tommy and Meg were at the wedding. I'd forgotten about that." She drew them further into the house, and toward the family room. "Mikey, turn that thing off," she yelled. "Get off your butt and say hello to your uncle. Vin, where…" She turned in place, then spotted her husband. "Vincent Gabriano, get _out_ of that kitchen. I swear!" She smacked his arm twice as he came back into the room. "I've told you twice to stay out of those dinner rolls."

"But they're good." Vincent Gabriano was a large man, every bit of six-foot-three, and broad across the shoulders and chest. His once dark hair was peppered through with plenty of silver. "Oh, don't fuss baby. There will be plenty. Who are you tryin' to impress anyway. It's just your brother." He had to skirt around his wife, but tossed a teasing wink in the direction of his brother-in-law. "Andy. It's been too damned long." He held out a hand, then drew his wife's brother into a hug. "So, LA hasn't done you in yet?"

"The appropriate question is have I done _it_ in yet," Andy replied with a chuckle. The men slapped each other on their backs, and by the time they were done, his nephew had stood to greet him as well. "Not such a squirt anymore, eh kid?" At seventeen, Michael was the youngest of his sister's five children.

"Not really." Mikey shoved his hands into his pockets with a shrug.

"Still doesn't talk much, I see." Andy smirked at his sister. "Not sure how that works in this family." His hand slid down his wife's back as he pulled her closer. "Sharon, this is my brother-in-law Vincent, and Mikey is their youngest. He'll be eighteen in the fall."

"So, the mean old son of a b—" Vincent bit off when his wife nudged him, hard, and grinned widely. "If not for Tom and Meg we'd have thought he made you up."

Sharon laughed. "It's nice to meet you both. Well, at least they aren't accusing you of paying me," She drawled, grinning at her husband. "Which is the general consensus among your former in-laws."

"High priced call girl carries badge and gun," Andy's lips pursed. "Now there's a headline for the times."

"Don't get me started," Elaine rolled her eyes. "The things I could say about that woman and her family…" Her hands found her hips again.

"Elaine and Vin didn't make the wedding," Andy explained, "because Nic knows better than to invite her aunt to anything where her mother might be present."

"Now that's not true," Elaine pointed a finger at him. "Nicole invited us, and I sent a very nice gift, but she and I spoke on the phone, and she completely understood why her uncle and I couldn't make it."

"Yeah," Vincent smirked. "She didn't want her mother to end up in the ER, or jail." He hooked a thumb at his wife. "She's got anger management issues. Runs in the family."

Sharon blinked, then smiled serenely. "Really? I hadn't noticed." When she looked up at her husband, she fluttered her lashes.

"Cute, real cute." He dropped a kiss onto her upturned mouth. "Amanda and Elaine never got along that well, after we split, it just got worse."

"It was never right," Elaine said. "Her using those kids like that, just to hurt you. It was low, and no less than I would expect from that stuck-up bimbo. Those babies were already hurt and confused, doing what she did only made the situation worse. It's a wonder they both turned out alright."

"Elaine," Vincent and Andy both rolled their eyes at her. "It was a long time ago," Andy continued. "All water under the bridge now."

"Whose bridge?" Elaine huffed. "I remember."

"Now honey," Vincent went on.

"Don't now honey me," she sniffed. "What? Like you think the new wife hasn't met the old wife? Please, they were at the wedding. Amanda is like a fungus, I'm sure she's shown up again since then. Am I right," she directed at Sharon.

"Well…" She hedged, then shrugged. "We're civil. More or less."

Andy snorted. "More of less, babe. There's a reason I don't let you go anywhere near her armed."

"I might not be her biggest fan," Sharon explained. "I don't exactly agree with her behavior, and she and I certainly don't agree on the subject of Andy. I particularly don't appreciate the way she tries to manipulate the kids, especially Tony, but I have never said an unkind word." Sharon paused. "To her face… or in front of Nicole and Tony."

"I like you already." Elaine took Sharon's arm. She waved Andy away. "Go get your things out of the car, Mikey, help your uncle. This one is coming with me. Let the men do their bonding thing. Now then, Mikey of course still lives here," she began explaining, as she drew Sharon toward the kitchen. "Our other kids, they're spread out all over creation, well, mostly just a thirty mile radius. They'll be here for dinner tomorrow, along with Tom and Meg, and their brood. We figured we'd keep it simple tonight, I imagine it was a long trip, and I know my brother. I'm sure he was especially _pleasant_."

"Come on," Vincent slapped his shoulder. "I'll give you a hand. You've lost her to Elaine for a while."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he muttered with a small grin.

Over the course of dinner, Andy's sister and brother-in-law expanded upon the details that Andy had given her about his family. Vincent was a beat cop, retired now. Tommy, their brother, was the oldest of the three siblings, and another beat cop. He was still on the job. He worked locally. Elaine and Vincent's eldest three boys had followed their father, one of them working a beat up in Union City, while the other was at the Port Authority. The third worked more locally, and was new to the job. All three would be joining the family the following day. Sharon had not realized how much of Andy's family was on the force, he had talked about it as a stop-gap measure, one which kept him out of trouble. His mother had wanted him to go to college, which he had, he'd wanted to be a cop. He did both.

They were glad that their first evening in Edison was a more sedate affair. It had worked out to be a long day. A day's worth of tension and worry had left Andy beat, and as they curled up together in bed later that evening, in what had once been his childhood bedroom, they talked about it. He had seen his siblings in the years since his last visit home. Tommy and Meg had gone out to LA a few times, Nicole's wedding was the most recent trip. Elaine had visited twice, once with Vincent joining her. He couldn't entirely explain his anxiety at coming back, they knew that he'd changed. Sharon explained it for him. Having them come to _his_ life, made it easy to continue on with the changes he made. Coming home, coming _back_, bringing those changes with him to an environment that was more accustomed to the _old_ Andy, she would have been more surprised had he not displayed a little nervousness.

Once they had settled, relaxed, Andy's hand slid up her back, fingers sliding softly across silk covered skin in a faint caress. His wife's voice was still in his ear, soft, lulling. She was curled against his side, leg tangled with his. With his other hand, he lifted hers where it lay against his chest. Their fingers twined loosely together. When she chuckled in his ear, he hummed. "What?"

"I'm trying to equate you with the pictures your sister showed me," she explained. "It's hard to believe you were ever that…cheerful." Her voice was low, teasing, and breath warm against his neck.

The room they were in had once been his, although it was long since changed, redecorated. One thing remained, the skylight overhead allowed moonlight to stream into the room, illuminating it. Andy slanted a look at her, could see the humor dancing in her eyes. She was utterly bemused. The light from above made her skin glow pale against the dark navy of the sheets and her own deep, russet hair. Andy grunted in response to her humor. He lifted her hand, drew it to his mouth. His lips brushed the inside of her wrist, nipped teasingly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm damned cheerful. If your mother showed me pictures of you at that age, what would I see?"

Sharon laughed, low and throaty. "Nothing you would expect. At fifteen, I was a freckled, knock-kneed mess. It was horrible. Adolescence was not kind to me at all. Those pictures have been locked away, there's a reason I joined the force. Now that I'm armed, no one would dare bring them out again."

"Impossible." He tried to align the woman he knew with the picture that she created. She was too lovely a creature, and he had spent years studying her legs. He couldn't imagine them anything but shapely, enticing. "You're hot." Andy rolled her beneath him without warning, settled comfortably against her, between the cradle of her legs. His fingers swept her hair aside, away from her shoulders and let it fan the pillow beneath them. Then he drew a finger across her brow, down her nose. His thumb traced the full curve of her bottom lip before his head dipped and he kissed the tip of her chin. "I love your freckles." His fingers traced down the curve of her neck, and then lower, across her chest. He drew a single strap of her nightgown aside and lowered his head, his mouth and nose brushed the swell of her cleavage. "Especially these," he rumbled.

She arched beneath him, curled her legs around his hips. Her hands moved into his hair while she chuckled. Sharon tugged on him, drew him up, caught his mouth in a slow, languid kiss. "I think we can agree that those kids are long gone. I like you better. That teenager looked cocky."

"He was." With his weight on his elbows, he gazed down at her. "Damned arrogant, foolish." His dark eyes sparkled in the dim moonlight. "Now he's just… grumpy, arrogant, and foolish."

"No." She disagreed. Her fingers traced the curve of his jaw. "So much more than that." Sharon drew him down to lay against her. She shifted when his arms curled around her. "You're complicated," she murmured with a smile.

"You like complicated," he rumbled, amused at her word choice.

One hand was stroking her thigh, it made her smile curve wider. "I love complicated." Her fingers combed through his hair. "If you're grumpy, it's frustration at the things you can't change. You're arrogant, but it's tempered with experience. You're never foolish, but sometimes your actions are, and it's always from a place that means well. You're hot-tempered, but it's because you feel so deeply," She said. "You love, and it is intense, and deep. You worry, because you love, and because you don't want to disappoint those that you love. You've done that before, you know how it feels, what it looks like. You're sarcastic as hell, but I've always liked that about you, even when it's maddening and I just want to shake you." She traced the curve of his ear with her fingertip. "I can't imagine the boy, because it seems so abstract. So far removed from who you are now. You're more than your past. More than your mistakes. Friend, father, officer… husband. All of that is exactly why you are who I love."

"You amaze me." Andy lifted his head. He gazed at her. His hand skirted the skin of her hip, drawing the nightgown higher. Bare skin, soft to the touch. It's smoothness defied her age. She was a beautiful woman, but only he knew just how vain she could be, with lotions and oils, and a routine that was second nature. He would think her beautiful anyway, lovelier still for all the imperfections that he had learned over the course of their relationship and marriage. Vulnerabilities which lay beneath the armor she showed to the world, a softness few would believe, and even fewer would ever see. She could be vain and materialistic, but a warmer, more loving woman he had never known. She had a secret love of smarties candies and salty potato chips. She left makeup scattered on the vanity, heels laying in the floor, but would fuss at him for shirts laying beside the hamper rather than in it. "Everyday," he said quietly. "Here you are, and you've as much reason to hate me as anyone else."

"Hate is too exhausting," she smiled gently at him. "We've had our disagreements, but you were rarely fueled by spite, Andy. Besides, you were an easy enough target for me to pick at as well. When it counted most, you backed me up. You were… _are_… hot-tempered, Andy. I never thought you were _mean_-tempered." Sharon drew her leg higher, a sigh on her lips when his fingers brushed the inside of her thigh. Her own hands continued to comb gently through his hair. He was unsettled by this trip, by opening the man he was now to the rest of his family. He would settle in, she knew. He would be fine. He was already mostly there. His mind was a multi-faceted place. He questioned everything, it was what made him so good at his job, even when he wanted to cut corners his own innate curiosity would get in his way. Now he questioned the course his life had taken, found confidence and stability in the sureness of what he had now. Of them. "I worked very hard to keep those around me at arm's length. You weren't supposed to like me. It's much harder to investigate a friend," she said now, speaking in low tones. Her voice hitched when he shifted against her. It was a slow building heat. But he could incite her to such wanton need in a matter of moments, it never failed to steal her breath. It was still a wonder that she would find such pleasure, such desire at her age, not after the disaster that was her first marriage. She scraped her teeth across her bottom lip with a sigh. This man, so vulnerable one moment, solid the next. He wanted to hold her, protect her, and yet he was just as comfortable standing beside her. "You made a choice to see beyond that. Your choices are the reason you are here today. Your choices set you apart. You chose to change, and you've chosen to stick with it, even when it's hard. You _choose_ to be this man. It's why I love you. It's why I believe in you. Your family see's that too."

"Hard to believe we ever called you Darth Raydor," he watched her smile. Watched the way her eyes sparkled with amusement. A hand found hers, their fingers tangled as he drew her arm up, over her head. She was wrapped around him, all warmth and trembling desire. His other hand caressed the back of her thigh. Her head tipped back when he loomed over her, lips brushing, breaths mingled. "Seems a lifetime ago," he whispered. "Has it really only been a year?" He was speaking of them again, and this world that they had created together. Only a year since he realized how precious a creature she truly was; more than a beautiful, desirable woman. More than a protective mother, more than a Captain. More than just the rulebook which stood between their squad and ruin as they strove to do what others couldn't. "I can't live without you now," he rumbled against her mouth. "I don't know how I lived without you before."

"I know," her breath was warm, moist against his lips and cheek. There were times when she sat and reflected on this life they were creating, and that it was new. It seemed surreal, and yet it felt anything but. Their pasts had shaped them, and there was no changing that. The future was ever changing. They had no guarantees, but she could picture them, could see him there. His presence in her life was solid. She had no doubt of that. It was how much time they had together that was ambiguous. They could only live, enjoy what they had, and enjoy it they did. Every moment was precious, even when they argued. They reveled in the normalcy of a simple, marital squabble. Her fingers tightened around his. Sharon arched beneath him, drew a thin, shuddering breath at the caress of more sensitive flesh. "You spoiled it," she drawled thickly. "It no longer applies, that name. It's lost it's ring." She watched the play of his eyes, curiosity and amusement mixed with the deeper emotions of desire and love. Her mouth moved along his jaw. Her tongue teased the curve of his ear. "It's Flynn now."

He hummed with some sense of satisfaction. "Yes," he agreed. Professionally she still used it, it's how they set themselves apart, and it was an attempt at keeping their marriage out of their work. It was the name her children carried, so she couldn't say it meant nothing to her, and never had. Andy understood that. It was a part of her, and as much as he would like to erase all of the hurt that Jackson caused, it was those memories which allowed her to love him. Allowed her to believe in him. She had lived that life, the man that he was, she knew that disappointment all too well. It's why she saw him. "But you're still a witch," he whispered, seeking her mouth again. "My witch. As wicked as you are beautiful." The kiss was slow, he took his time tasting her, and a low groan was drawn from his own throat when she hooked her leg around him and bucked, rolling them. When she was seated atop him, he sat up. His arms engulfed her. When he married his first wife, he wanted to bring her back here, enfold her into his family, completely intertwine their lives. Amanda hadn't gotten along with his sister, had not appreciated his blue collar roots. She didn't like the cold. Nor did she appreciate the fall or the spring, both beautiful seasons in this part of the country. They had visited, but stayed at the Inn. She wasn't comfortable staying with his family. They had moved to California, and there they built a life, such as it was. When he came home, she rarely joined him. When she did, they stayed at the Inn, or a hotel. He preferred to visit alone.

They had been planning this trip for a while. He had met Sharon's family the previous summer, celebrated their impromptu wedding with the Cavanagh clan. Then they had spent the holidays with them. They were good people. He liked them, and they accepted him. He made her happy, and that was all they asked. There was a part of Andy which had shied from the idea of bringing another wife home to meet his family. He understood now how ridiculous that was. When they planned this trip, it was with the immediate idea of staying at the Inn. Elaine had railed at that. He never stayed with the family when he visited, and it had been too long since his last. Sharon had simply shrugged at him, said that it was more than okay with her if he wanted to stay with his sister. His experiences with Amanda had clouded his anticipation. It was stupid, he knew now. Seeing her tonight, laughing with Elaine, charming them in that way of hers… he could feel the final tension fade away. It was the right thing to do, bringing her home with him. If he had any regrets, it was that he waited too long.

Now, in his family home, this woman in his arms, it finally felt right. That was the difference in having a wife and _being_ with his wife. She loved all of him, and moved seamlessly into his life. She came from a family of lawyers and doctors, military officers, and a patriarch that was a retired Federal judge. His blue collar roots had hardly phased her at all. Instead, she stood in his sister's kitchen, chopping vegetables and laughing over a glass of wine with a woman she had known all of half an hour.

He loved her all the more.


	3. Chapter 3

Say Goodnight, Not Goodbye - Chapter 3

by Kadi

Rated: T

* * *

There were children running around the backyard. In and out through the doors, dashing around adults and laughing merrily as they played. Andy's siblings were present at the childhood home, and their children had arrived, bringing grandchildren to be smiled at and indulged. He had cousins aplenty, and his aunt presided over it all. She was a deceptively frail looking woman. She had admonished Andy for staying away so long, shook her finger at him as though he were a child and not a man of almost sixty. Then he introduced his wife. Sharon had a moment of anxiety all her own as the woman's dark eyes bore into her. It was the sort of scrutinization that only the older generation could dish out.

"She's not Italian," his Aunt Maddy stated. "Where did he find you, girl?"

"Aunt Maddy," Andy began, but Sharon squeezed his hand.

"Irish," She explained with a smile. "My maiden name is Cavanagh. My family moved to California from Boston, but I was born there. I'm a rare Los Angeles native."

Her eyes narrowed speculatively. "Good Catholic girl?"

"I try." She smiled a little more warmly. "I go to mass as often as I can. Otherwise my mother would have my hide."

"Good, that's good." She nodded. "Does my Andrew go with you?"

Sharon laughed. "He has. Not often, but he has tagged along on occasion." She cast a teasing look at her husband when she heard him sigh beside her. That would set his aunt off on a tangent about his poor soul.

The old woman watched them and the look they shared. They leaned closer together. He was always a restless boy, Andrew. He was her sister's youngest child. A good boy, but he had lost his way for a while. Maybe he had found it again. "They tell me you were married before, like Andrew. You have children?"

"Yes I do." Her eyes lit with thoughts of her kids. "Three, a son and daughter from my first marriage. Richard and Katherine. The youngest, Rusty, is adopted. He came to me a few years ago."

"Rusty was a witness in a case we caught a while back," Andy explained. "Sharon took him home to keep an eye on him while child services tried to find a safe place to put him. It was only supposed to be a couple of days." He cast a warm, affectionate look at his wife. "She kept him. Sharon has a thing for strays."

She flashed a soft look at him, her fingers brushed over his hand. Her thumb toyed with his wedding band. "I have a thing about lost boys needing a home," she corrected gently.

Andy took his phone out and pulled up a picture of the five of them, their kids, taken at Thanksgiving. "Here you go Aunt Maddy. Nicole and Tony," he pointed out his grown children, even if she would know them on sight. "The other three are Sharon's. Ricky, Katie, and Rusty."

Her eyes narrowed and she looked at the small screen. It was a decently sized photo. She hated this technology. Whatever happened to printed pictures? Now, all these kids, they brought her pictures on their phones and whatnot. No one ever gave her pictures of the babies anymore. It was all about screens. She didn't understand it. What was the world coming too? "Her hair is blue!"

Sharon and Andy looked at each other and laughed. "Yes, it was for a while," the former said. "Katie was a ballet dancer in New York. She broke her leg last fall, and we learned that she was also ill. She had a type of cancer that was treatable, but it still meant undergoing chemo. While Katie was trying to cope with her condition and all the changes in her life, she acted out by dying her hair blue for several weeks. She's a bit of a pip, that girl."

"She's something else, alright." Andy shook his head. "Gets it from her mother. It's brown again." He swept his finger across the screen, showed another picture, this one from Christmas. It was the two of them with their children at Christmas in Park City. Tony had remained behind in Los Angeles to work, only he was missing from the photo.

"They are beautiful," Maddy stated. She waved away the phone. "You get me real pictures," she ordered Andy. "Next time, you bring Nicole and Anthony to see me. I've not seen them since they were babies, no bigger than that," she nodded to a group of children.

"Yes ma'am." He tucked his phone back into his pocket, curled his arm around his wife again. One of his cousins beckoned his aunt away from them, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "It was the Italian inquisition." He maneuvered her away, quickly. "She isn't done with us, but with any luck, we can bet lost in the crowd."

Sharon laughed. "Oh stop, she's a sweet old woman."

"Sweet?" He snorted. "You don't know Aunt Maddy." They made their way toward the back deck, where his brothers had gone. His nieces and nephews were there as well. The weather had reached the mid-sixties. To those native to the area, it was a balmy spring day. If Sharon snuggled closer into his embrace, Andy simply enjoyed it. He found a place against the deck railing and leaned there, an arm around her shoulders. These introductions had already been made, thankfully.

"Uncle Andy," Joe was his sister's eldest boy. He dug a bottled water out of a cooler and tossed it over. When he held up another, Sharon politely declined. "You got here just in time. Matt was just telling us that the little punk is planning on taking the Detective's exam. His beat ain't good enough for him anymore. Do us a favor, talk him out of it."

Matthew Gabriano, younger by only two years, and Elaine's second son. He rolled his eyes at his brother. "I never said it wasn't good enough, you dope. I said I qualified for the test, and I was going to take it. I could use the raise. I got four kids. Tell him I am not selling my soul," he looked at his Uncle.

"Sounds like you're selling it to me." Donna was the only girl, a nurse, but she was married to a cop. It was one, very large, law enforcing family.

"I could think of worse places on the force he could transfer to for a pay raise," Andy drawled, drawing a hard nudge for his wife. "Nothing wrong with being a Detective. Not like he's joining Internal Affairs." She pinched his side, and he kissed the side of her head again.

Joe laughed. "You'd know all about that, eh?" He shook his head. His wife Tina leaned into his side when he draped an arm around her neck. "Say, whatever happened to that broad that was giving you such a hard time? Last time you were out here, you were tellin' the boys and I what a hard ass she was. Hey, Matty, remember that? That's the kind of crap you got to look forward to."

Matt rolled his eyes at his brother. "She still givin' you a hard time?"

Andy ran a hand over his hair. "In a matter of speaking." His wife's shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. "She transferred. She isn't Internal Affairs anymore."

"Pity though." Sharon tilted her head. "Those were fun times. You deserved every moment of it."

"No doubt," He agreed, grinning down at her. "See, boys, the thing you have to understand is… turns out the broom she was riding was a two seater, so I hopped on board."

Sharon gave them a little wave, wiggling her fingers. "Broom riding broad."

"No." Joe was staring at them. "I don't believe it."

"It doesn't seem right," Matt agreed.

"Hang on," James was new to the force. He fell in between Donna and Matthew. He was quieter than his brothers, but no less intense. "Just so we're all on the same page here. You're tellin' us, that after all the stories we heard about that ball bustin', rule lovin', tough as nails, hard ass that was making your life such hell, you went and married her?"

"Oh, don't worry," Sharon chirped with a smile. "I only bust his balls _now_ when it's absolutely necessary."

While his brother laughed, and his brother-in-law snickered at the boys' plight, Andy just shook his head. "She ain't kidding."

The three boys looked at each other. They shook their heads. Joe held his hands up in mock reverence. "We're not worthy."

"We were lead astray," Matt decided. "He wasn't pissed off because she was riding his ass. He was pissed off because she was riding his ass and she was hot."

"On second thought," James decided. "Don't take the test Matty. Sarah will kill you when she figures out that _this_ is what you have to look forward to."

"Nice try." Andy drew his laughing wife closer. "Get your own hard ass, boys. This one is all mine." She pinched his side again, making him grunt, but when he looked down, her eyes were alight with amusement and joy. "I only told them the really good stories, I promise."

"Transsexual prostitute?" Her head inclined.

"Yep. That's a favorite. Probably because you maligned me so publicly. There was even violence threatened. They loved it," Andy shrugged.

Her lips pursed. "The fist fight with Nolan in Traffic?"

"You feature in rare form in that one," Andy promised. "I quoted you perfectly. Especially the part where you called me a Neanderthal."

"Hm." She tapped a finger against her lips. "What about the Sumo Wrestler and the model?"

Andy's eyes narrowed. "You swore we'd never speak of that again."

"Ah," She nodded slowly. "So I did. I'm sorry, Honey. It's one of my favorites, but I can understand where you'd be more reticent."

"Sumo wrestler?" His brother was giving him a peculiar look.

Andy sighed. Of course she'd get their attention with that one. Turnabout was fair play, wasn't that what she'd told him about the stories that _he_ had told her family about their… interesting past. Andy shook his head. "Oh go ahead," he nudged her. "You've been waiting for this moment, haven't you?"

"You have no idea," she drawled, green eyes sparkling. Her attention turned back to his siblings and nephews. "Your Uncle caught this case, it was years ago, when he was still in Robbery-Homicide. A model was murdered, and every scrap of evidence they had pointed at the boyfriend. Andy and his partner went down to roust the boyfriend out, to bring him in for questioning. I get a call at four in the morning, shots fired. I get to the scene and this one," she hooked a thumb at Andy, "is yelling at anyone who will listen that the boyfriend tried to kill him—"

"He did!" Andy gave her an incredulous look. Even after all this time, she could tell it from the FID point of view. "The guy took a swing at me with a club. A really big one."

"Incidentally," she continued, as though he hadn't spoken. "It was the partner that fired his weapon. Andy was busy trying to dodge his new friend, the boyfriend. Who was quite upset at the news his girlfriend was dead and he was the chief suspect. When I get there, the boyfriend is sitting in the back of an ambulance, because the bullet grazed his arm, crying like a baby."

"So she asks me what _I_ did," He grumbled. "I just gave the notification, asked the guy to come downtown with us."

"In a roundabout sort of way," she explained. "Your uncle might have been a little… astounded at the fact that the boyfriend, this very large Sumo wrestler, was dating a very lovely, very statuesque young model."

"Like you weren't shocked by it too," he told her.

"That doesn't mean that I couldn't conduct myself in a manner befitting my position and rank," she reminded him with a smile. "Perhaps if you had been a little more polite, and a little less _what, you were doin'__her?_ about it," she said, doing a passable imitation of her gruff, Jersey raised love, "the nice young man might not have become so incensed."

"Long story short," Andy cut a look at her and sniffed. "My partner gets cleared, the boyfriend wasn't the perp, and I got sent to sensitivity training. Again."

Sharon pulled out her phone when it began to vibrate in her pocket. "You're leaving out the part where you accused me of deliberately taking his side just to piss you off. I was simply trying to console the poor boy."

"Poor boy?" Andy shook his head. "He knocked me through a wall."

"The love of his life just died, he was understandably distraught." Sharon checked the display and frowned. "Excuse me, this I have to take."

Andy glanced over, a brow rose at the name. He watched her move across the deck and jog down the steps. She had the phone to her ear as she moved into the yard, away from the crowd. Her voice transformed, she lost the laughing lilt. He heard instead the snap of the Captain in her simple, _Raydor_. His eyes followed the course her steps took her. Her voice changed, but her body hadn't. Not at first. He watched her straighten and sighed quietly. Taylor wouldn't call her unless it was necessary. They'd reached some kind of understanding in the weeks since Andy returned to work. She wouldn't discuss it, but he knew that she sat down with Taylor and discussed at length the consequences of their continued relationship and the squad. Whatever went on between them, Taylor was laying off. Sharon was striving even harder to maintain a line between home and work.

He let them have this week. He was being _nice_, which was a little unnerving. He usually only acted this way when he wanted something in return. Sharon waved off his concerns. She said that Taylor knew they'd had a hell of a year, what with the Stroh situation, Douglas Grand, Katie's illness, and then Andy being shot. They needed this, time away for themselves. They loved their kids, but this was for them.

Andy watched her shoulders straighten, and then her spine. She stopped walking, and half turned. She was nodding as she spoke, and he watched her free hand move to her hip. He knew that stance well. Andy pulled out his phone and looked for the number to the airline. When she did finally turn, their eyes met. "Excuse me." He moved away from the group on the deck and strode toward her, his longer stride closing the distance quickly.

Sharon hung up as he approached. "We caught a case," she said, with no small amount of regret. "A body was found up in the Palisades this morning. It was badly disfigured, it took them a while to get an ID. It's DDA Michaels. Andrea's house was broken into, it was completely trashed. She wasn't home, thankfully. She's a little shaken, but okay. Emma was run off the road this afternoon, she got a little banged up, but she's otherwise fine too. Someone is targeting members of the DA's office. Taylor wants us back. All hands on deck." She exhaled loudly. "I'm sorry." It was one of those times when Work and Home overlapped, and there was nothing they could do to prevent it.

He laid his hand against her neck pressed a kiss to her brow. Instead of speaking, he lifted his phone to his ear. "Booking," he stated, to the automated response. "Yeah, I need to change a flight. I need two seats from Newark to LA, as soon as you can get us off the ground. LAPD, we'll be traveling armed." He recited both their badge numbers, first his, and then hers, as he made arrangements to get them home.

She reached up and curled her hand around his wrist. She lay her cheek against his arm and closed her eyes. Sharon hated that they had so little time together, that wasn't ruled by their careers. Yet, at the same time, it made those moments that much more precious. As he made the exchange on their tickets, she reflected on how lucky she was. He understood. He might regret their shortened trip, but he wouldn't begrudge her the reason for their return.

"I got us on the red-eye," Andy said, putting his phone away. "We can get packed and head up to Newark. It's going to make for a hell of a long day tomorrow, but we can nap on the plane." Neither of them would. It was near impossible to sleep on planes, but they had operated on less sleep before.

"You could stay," she told him. "I could make up an excuse, and I doubt Taylor would really care. It's me that he actually needs back in the office, you could—"

"I'm hurt." He smiled at her. "You're actually telling me that I'm not important or necessary." Andy shook his head. "We're a packaged deal, you go, I go. Besides, if this nut job is targeting DA's, how long until he starts targeting cops? You're not going back there without me, no way in hell, Lady."

He could be endearingly protective. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his mouth. "Okay. Packaged deal. Let's go break the bad news, Lieutenant."

"Captain." He nodded, but took her hand as they strode back toward the house. They drew questioning looks from those gathered on the deck, but went in search of his sister. Elaine didn't take the news well, but with a family of cops, she understood. It was all over the news, which they watched while they packed. That CNN was already covering it made it less surreal. Where Taylor would normally give the briefing, it was Pope facing the press. It was expected, given the magnitude of the situation.

They had time to have dinner with the family, and say their goodbyes before loading their bags into the rental. They made promises to return, just as soon as they could, and extended invitations to Andy's brother, sister, and their spouses to join them in LA. Then they were back on the road.

Andy waited until they were on the plane, somewhere over Kansas before nudging his wife. "Look at the bright side. If the squad has been called in, we know we won't walk in on Katie doing body shots with Buzz."

"No," she said at length. "I suppose we won't. Thank you, Andy, for putting _that _in my head."

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Anytime, babe." When her elbow landed against his side, he grinned, despite the grunt. "Just trying to keep an optimistic outlook."

"It frightens me, sometimes, the places that your mind goes," She commented lightly.

"Sweetheart, it scares the hell out of me." He opened his eyes and grinned at her. Andy placed an arm around her, drew her close. "We don't land for a few more hours. Try to sleep." The armrest between their seats was up, her head rested against his shoulder. He pulled her legs over his lap, and tried to make her slightly more comfortable than she was before. His hand rubbed her leg, from knee to ankle, while his other settled in her hair to rub her scalp. He felt her relax, and while they both managed to doze, they didn't quite nap.


	4. Chapter 4

Say Goodnight, Not Goodbye - Chapter 4

by Kadi

Rated: T

* * *

All too soon, the plane made its descent into LAX. Once they were on the ground again, Sharon was on her phone. The Captain was back. As she got updates on the case, and was brought up to speed, Andy took charge of getting their bags. She briefed him as they walked toward longterm parking, where her car waited for them.

The only lead they had was the sedan which ran Rios off the road. They had no visual on the driver, and no physical evidence at the scene where Michaels' body was found. Evidence from the break-in at Hobbs' house was still being sorted through. In the meantime, protective custody was being arranged for the DA, and each of the deputies that reported to him.

They were in route to the station when Sharon's phone lit up with a text. It was another update from Provenza. Another body had been found, and given its location, they were operating under the assumption that it was related. DDA Nathan Anderson had gone home from the office, intent on grabbing files and personal items before going into protective custody, only to find the body waiting in his garage. Major Crimes was rolling out to the scene, along with SID, and would meet the Captain and Lieutenant there instead of the Murder Room. Sharon fed the address into her car's GPS while Andy pointed them in that direction.

When they arrived, there were several units already on location, although it did not appear as though the Coroner's van had arrived yet. Both officers left the car, guns and badges now clipped to their belts, or in Sharon's case, the waistband of her jeans, and walked toward the gathered crowd in front of DDA Anderson's garage. As they stepped beneath the yellow tape, Detective Sanchez appeared, almost out of nowhere, to block their path.

"Captain, Lieutenant," he nodded to both of them. "We can update you here, if you like, ma'am. Lieutenant Provenza is already with the body. We're waiting for the Coroner's office."

Although he seemed somewhat agitated, Sharon smiled warmly. She passed it off as the pressure and magnitude of the case. "Thank you, Detective. I think I'll speak with the Lieutenant. I have a few questions I'd like to ask."

She started around him and Julio moved with her. "Ma'am," he tried to effectively block her path. "It's really not something you want to see. Trust me."

Her brow arched. Over the last two years the Detective had grown rather protective. That had only intensified since her attack the previous year, and even more still since Flynn was shot back in early December. While it was touching, it was now bordering on obtrusive. "I appreciate that fact, Detective," she said a bit more pointedly. "However, I'm sure it's nothing that I haven't seen before."

Julio cast an almost helpless look at Flynn, then another over his shoulder to where Provenza stood with Tao by the body. The Captain started past him again and he fell in step on her other side. When Lieutenant Provenza scowled at him, he shrugged. He had tried to head her off. He would like to see the Lieutenant do better.

The Lieutenant moved quickly around Tao and the body. "Captain, Flynn. We're just waiting on Kendall, or someone else from the Coroner's office. Why don't we take this over to the Command station. Taylor is here, I'm sure he'd like to know that you've arrived."

"I will speak with Chief Taylor in a moment," Sharon shook her head. She glanced at Flynn, at her left, and frowned at the other members of her team. "What is going on here, Lieutenant?" She folded her arms over her chest and lifted her brows, clearly waiting for someone to explain themselves.

Taylor spotted them from where he stood speaking with several other top members of the LAPD, the FBI, and the District Attorney's office. "Captain!" He waved her toward him, even as he began striding toward her. "A word, please."

Sharon huffed in annoyance. "For someone who wanted me back awfully quick, to get to work on this case, suddenly everyone seems to want to keep me—" There was something in the shift that came from her left. She felt it rather than saw it. He'd gone tense, rigid. Sharon glanced at Flynn, and her mind clicked over as she registered the grim, stony expression on her husband's face. Something dark passed across his eyes and he looked away from Provenza. There was a moment where her heart didn't beat at all, and then it fluttered anxiously. Her stomach dropped, and she drew a thin breath only to let it out slowly. Her attention shifted to Provenza while she steeled herself. They were trying to keep her away from the body, and there had to be a reason for that. "Who?" Her gaze moved past him, to the sheet covered form. It was too wide to be Rusty or Katie, and it appeared too short to be Ricky, but prone as it was, it was hard to say. She had spoken to the children just hours ago, before boarding the flight home.

"Captain," Provenza scratched his forehead. "I really think we should—"

Her teeth ground together in annoyance. She shoved around him, but Tao stood in her way. "Lieutenant." Her eyes flashed, while her voice dropped an octave. She tilted her head at him. They stared at one another for a moment before Tao knelt beside the body again. He glanced up at her, then behind, before he sighed. He pulled the sheet back, just a few inches, enough so that she could see the face.

Behind her, Andy swore quietly. It hissed out between his teeth. "Son of a bitch."

Sharon might have said the same, if she could draw breath enough to speak at all. What air might have been contained in her lungs rushed out at once, and she staggered backward. Her back bumped against a solid, male chest. The hands that came up to hold her waist kept her upright when her knees threatened to buckle. She wanted to look away and found that she could not. Her eyes were glued to the sight, grey in death, and somewhat blue. Someone must have closed the eyes, and for that she was grateful. An arm slipped around her waist and she was pulled, turned away. She found herself gazing instead upon the faces of her team, and found not pity, but sympathy. They were trying to shield her, and to her own stubbornness she could thank the image now burned into the back of her eyelids, the lifeless face of a man she had once loved. Andy shook her, the action hardly noticeable at all, and she finally drew air into her burning lungs. His arm held her flush against him, and she reached down to grip his arm. She heard his voice against her ear, couldn't make out the words. Her heart was beating too loudly. Sharon nodded anyway. "I'm okay." That was far from true, she said it just the same.

She had a vice grip on his arm, and he wasn't sure that she wasn't drawing blood. The bite of her nails against his flesh made him wince. More alarming than the sudden pallor of her skin was the fact that he still held her, that she _allowed_ him to continue holding her. She was leaning against his chest as much as he was holding her there, and as Taylor joined them, Andy only narrowly suppressed the urge to shoot the man a challenging look. Only the concern displayed on his face stayed his reaction. "What the hell is this," Flynn barked. His ire was directed more at his partner than anyone else. "You couldn't call me?"

Provenza glowered back at him. "We were only a few minutes ahead of you. There was no ID on him, no one knew _who _it was until we got here—"

"I think that's more than enough," Taylor said calmly. "This is not the time or the place," he looked between the two Lieutenants. Flynn was a hot-tempered wildcard on a good day, and he found that he couldn't exactly fault his reaction _this time_. "Obviously, Captain Raydor and Lieutenant Flynn are now _off_ the case, we'll need statements from both of them. Get on the phone with the airline, confirm their alibis," He instructed.

"What?" Provenza and Flynn both stared incredulously at him. "Are you out of your mind," The older Lieutenant asked. "For one, we can't be down two of our senior officers on a case like this, and secondly, you're not really trying to say that you think they're _suspects_."

Julio stood just a little taller. "That would be a mistake, sir."

"It's always the wife, it's always the wife, it's _always_ the wife," Sharon said quietly. She gave Provenza a weak smile. "Of course we're suspects. I was married to him, and it would be a mistake to discount the new husband, especially with his temper." Sharon straightened, finally, now that the ground didn't seem to be shifting beneath her feet, but kept a tight hold on her husband's arm. She drew a slow breath, and looked up at him when she stepped away to a more respectable distance.

Andy understood. He was more incensed that Sharon was on that list, even if it was a formality. They had to clear them both, but they still wouldn't be able to work the case. She was the ex-wife, he was the new husband. It could taint any evidence that was gathered. "Here." Andy pulled their ticket stubs out of the inside pocket of his jacket. He passed them over to Sanchez.

"Let's get the rest out of the way," Sharon said quietly. "I have a notification to do." Her voice hitched, just slightly. She ran a hand into her hair, tucked it behind her ear.

"Captain," Taylor waved her toward the command center. "We'll get your statement over here, and then you and Lieutenant Flynn may be on your way."

She nodded quietly and moved past her officers. She let go of Andy's arm, but felt his other hand land against the small of her back. Sanchez joined them. They were standard questions, which he asked in a low, solemn voice, obviously uncomfortable at having to do it all. Sharon stopped him halfway through with a hand on his arm. "Julio." She met his gaze, hers warming only a fraction. The horror was too fresh, the grief too sharp.

Sanchez gazed back at her, then at the Lieutenant. He nodded. They went through the questions more quickly, rapid fire. Departure times, layover, arrival at Newark. Jackson Raydor had been dead for less than twenty-four hours, and unless one of them had flown back in that time, it was obvious they hadn't done it. He would have to pull the airline information, put it in the case file. It was, as they knew, just a formality. It didn't make him like it anymore. Afterward, Julio put his notepad away. "I'm sorry, Captain."

She tilted her head at him. "So am, I Detective. Try the old motor Inn out off the Five, Jack stayed there sometimes. He dropped by the house in December to see Katie, I haven't heard from him since. I know that he was in Rehab recently, but he checked himself out after a week." Her jaw clenched, she was so angry and disappointed in him for doing that to their children. For making them hope, and then disappointing them _again_. "Ricky may know where he's been staying, or his brother. I wasn't aware that he was back in LA."

"We'll run it down," the detective told her.

Sharon nodded and turned to her husband. She sighed. "We need to—"

"Chief!" One of the uniformed officers stepped out of the mobile unit which served as the command center. "Robbery-Homicide had a break-in come through. The address popped an alert that was posted last year. Residents reported that the place was trashed, same MO as the Hobbs residence."

Taylor strode over, Sanchez and Provenza joining him. "What was the address?"

"An apartment at a complex in Los Feliz, 44111 Virgil Avenue, unit 1109," the office read it off the card in his hand.

Sharon and Andy looked at one another. Their hearts leapt into their throats, stomachs flipped over anxiously. "Rusty." They both ran toward her car.

"Damnit!" Provenza started toward his car, Sanchez with him. "Send units over to Echo Park, 4205 Curran. Tao, Sykes, stay with the body. Wait for Kendall. We need chain of custody." He reached the car, and Sanchez was already behind the wheel. "Let's go."

Drinking from the carton, when there was barely enough orange juice left for a full glass, was so very tempting. Rusty sighed as he took down a small tumbler and filled it. It would be just his luck that about the time he put his lips to the rim, Sharon would walk in and nail him for it. At least, that was the way it usually happened. No one could ever say that he couldn't learn from his mishaps. Especially those that involved lectures, chores, and specifically nasty glares. Yes, Rusty filled the tumbler and tossed the empty carton into the trash. There would be no drinking from the carton here, no ma'am. He smirked a little as he lifted the glass to his lips.

Then he almost choked. A truck jumped the curb and came to a screeching halt, half across the drive way and sliding into the yard. "Seriously?" He palmed his cell phone, but his eyes widened even further when he looked out the windows. Squad cars, with lights flashing, came to a stop in front of the house. Rusty ran to the front door, his orange juice forgotten. He was almost thrown back when he opened it. An arm landed across his chest and he was knocked flush into the wall. "What the hell!"

"Where's Katie?" Richard Raydor towered over him. He wore a dark blue LAPD windbreaker, tucked back behind his badge and gun. "Where is she!" He nudged his adopted brother when the kid only stared at him.

"Upstairs." Rusty blinked several times. "What are you doing!"

Ricky hauled him away from the wall and tossed him to the uniforms coming inside behind him. "Do _not _let him out of your sight! Davis, with me." Gun in hand, he took the stairs two at a time, heading up.

"Come on." The uniform hauled Rusty away from the house and began walking him toward one of the squad cars.

"Hey!" Rusty jerked, trying to get out of his grip. "I know my rights. You can't manhandle me. I haven't done anything. Dude! You are seriously going to—" The familiar silver car screeching to a stop in front of the house quieted him. "Sharon, these guys have lost their heads. _What_ is going on!"

"Rusty, get in the car." She jogged across the yard behind Flynn. "_Now_." She pointed at him with one hand, her gun was in the other.

Something in her tone made him nod. Rusty didn't know how to classify it. His mouth went dry. His gut twisted painfully. He never saw her afraid before. Upset, sure. Mad, definitely. He had watched her worry about all of them, but never with anything that he could classify as actual _fear_. Not like this. Rusty stopped struggling with the uniformed officers and let them put him in the back of the nearest squad car. Through the windows he saw two more cars arrive. Another patrol, and Lieutenant Provenza. Seriously, he thought, what the _hell_ was going on.

Ricky pushed into the bedroom that belonged to his sister without knocking or preamble. He found her at the small desk against the window. In the very large kennel, that took up much of the corner of the room, her German Shepherd pup lifted her head. Ricky knew that the dog slept in it at night, it was safer for her, until she was fully trained and no longer prone to chewing anything she could get her teeth on. "Are you alone?"

"You're kidding?" Katie blinked at him. She had her hair piled into a messy bun and she wore a pair of old yoga pants and a loose sweater that had seen better days. Her face was scrubbed clean and there was a pair of reading glasses perched on her nose. "Do I look like I'm dressed for entertaining? You know full well that anyone I _might _be playing with—" She trailed off with an indignant squeak when she was hauled to her feet. "What is up with you?"

"I'm not kidding," Ricky pulled her away from the desk, away from the window. "It's not a joke." Ricky walked her into the hall, where he passed her to the uniforms that had followed. "They already took Rusty outside. Kate, go with them. I'll explain everything, just go."

"Okay," she said at length. "But you are seriously freaking me out right now. Rick, where's mom?"

"On her way," he moved toward Rusty's room with his gun still drawn. "_Go_ Kate."

"Yeah, sure, whatever." She rolled her eyes. "I will indulge the strange cop fantasy you're living in right now." She was halfway down the stairs, flanked by two uniform officers when others burst into the house. She spotted her stepfather first. "Andy!"

His gaze swept the first floor of the house. "Hey kid." He jerked his head toward the front. "Out." He moved toward the kitchen, clearing it. Then he swept down the short hall that led to his office and the laundry room beyond.

"Katie." Sharon lay a hand on her arm. "Go with them. Keep Rusty out of trouble."

"I'm going." She strode along with the officers. "Someone has some explaining to do. You're totally ruining my study mojo!"

Sharon met Andy coming back up the hall. "Clear," He told her.

"Upstairs is clear too," Ricky jogged back down the stairs.

The three of them moved toward the back, out the patio. Sharon flipped the lights on. The backyard was illuminated, but shadows were cast against the privacy fence. Ricky and Andy walked the fence line, going in opposite directions. "House is clear," Sharon called into the house, once they were joined by Provenza and Sanchez. "Check the garage."

"Uniforms that came with us already did," Sanchez stated.

Andy and Ricky met at the back fence and walked back toward the patio. "We're all clear."

Sharon ran a hand across her forehead and closed her eyes. Ricky's hands moved to his hips. "Mom, what the hell is going on." She had called him, and while she wasn't frantic, there was a note in her voice that worried him. She wanted to know where he was, who he was with. Ricky was headed home from the station, no plans for the rest of the night. When she told him the old Condo had been broken into, and it seemed somehow connected to the coordinated assault going on against the DA's office, he turned around and headed to the house.

She shook her head. "Come inside." Sharon turned and walked back into the house. Every light was now burning. It couldn't quite chase away the shadows. She drew a deep breath, let the adrenaline flow out of her. It left her feeling oddly weak.

"I'll get them." Andy moved past her, his hand brushed her hip. He strode to the door, gun once again tucked away in the holster clipped to his belt. At the door, he waved the all clear to the uniforms surrounding the squad car where Katie and Rusty had been placed for safekeeping.

"I'm going to keep a car in front of the house," Provenza stated. "Another one patrolling the neighborhood."

Sharon nodded. "You need to get back to the crime scene. You'll keep me updated?"

He heaved a sigh, but nodded. This wasn't like her sneaking updates when she was out on medical leave. "We'll call."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Her gaze left him, fell on Sanchez. "Detective."

"Ma'am," Julio withdrew with Provenza. Outside, they looked at one another. "Whoever it is, doesn't know she moved."

"No," Provenza said. "Means it must be someone who got out recently, or isn't out at all."

"Stroh?" Sanchez frowned. They thought he was being confined, contact and correspondence carefully monitored."

"He'd have no reason to come after the Captain. DA's office, I could buy that. Rusty's testimony is already record, he's got nothing to gain, even on Appeal, by coming after him. It's not Stroh," but it wouldn't hurt to run it down anyway. "More than likely, it's an older case."

"Former cop," Sanchez scowled. "Doesn't know she remarried."

"That's my guess." Provenza walked toward his car. "Doesn't matter." He stopped beside the car. "We do it by the book. We make it stick."

Back inside, Rusty was looking around the living room with a slightly disturbed look. "Just for the record, the wild party thing was just a joke. We get the point. No more screwing around while you're on vacation."

"What is going on?" Katie moved to the sofa, and sat in her usual spot, legs curled beneath her.

"Sit down." Sharon took Ricky's arm and pulled him over to the sofa with her. She took a seat, close to Katie and tugged on her son's arm. When he sat, her hand slid down his arm to curl around his wrist.

Rusty shoved his hands into his pockets and moved closer. He watched Flynn pace the room before finally seating himself on the coffee table. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His hands brushed Sharon's legs, then he clasped them between his knees. They gazed at one another, one of those odd conversations that took only a second, but conveyed so much. Rusty felt his stomach twist again. "Sharon?" She looked up at him and he felt oddly sick at what he saw in her eyes.

Her attention shifted to the elder two, it was a moment she had dreaded for so many years. She imagined it differently. A phone call, a uniform at her door. All the drinking, the gambling, and the nomadic life style, experience indicated it would end in the usual way. This was hardly what she expected. She exhaled quietly. Her throat threatened to close, but she forced back the ache with sheer will. "It's your dad…"

They would have questions. The next hour was spent fielding them. She had no answers. There were no details to give them, and even if there were, it was an open investigation. That certainly didn't make it any easier. It seemed that much worse. The anger came first, from the least expected place. She thought it would be Ricky, railing at the absurdity of it all. It was Katie, in a full fit of temper, until the yelling gave way to crying. Ricky was quiet. He wrapped his shock in resignation and tucked it away with his grief for later.

Rusty hovered, uncertain and sad, and finally found a spot to perch on the coffee table with Flynn. The two of them on the edge of this grief, not quite outsiders, but barely mourners. They could only watch.

It was some time later, well into the early hours of the morning when Andy stepped out of the kitchen from brewing yet another pot of coffee. He realized upon looking around that while Katie had withdrawn to the patio, and Ricky sat in a corner of the room, speaking quietly on the phone, his wife was nowhere to be seen. He glanced into the yard, and when he didn't see her, he sent an inquisitive look toward Rusty. The kid had remained downstairs, although apart, nearby the rest of the family in case he was needed. Rusty jerked his head toward the stairs, then lifted his eyes to the ceiling. With a nod, Andy made his way up to the second level.

He found her in their bedroom. She was curled in the wide arm chair beneath the window, in the far corner of the room. Night had given way to the lighter tones of dawn, although it wasn't really quite morning yet. Her head was resting against the back of the chair. When he entered the room, it rolled toward him. Her fingers were toying with something, and as he neared, he saw the glint of gold in the overhead lights. Andy sat on the edge of the bed nearest her and leaned forward, arms resting against his knees. "Ricky is still talking to his uncle?"

"Hm." She nodded. "Yes." Sharon had spoken to Bill for a while. He was understandably upset, but more worried about her and the kids. He had questions that she couldn't answer, and she felt badly for that. The grief would be tempered by frustration. It was bad enough as it was. "They're running down a list of places he might have been staying." She sighed quietly. Her gaze dropped and she held her hand up, palm cupped. There was a pair of rings laying against her pale skin. They were simple, a single moderately sized solitaire and a matching band. "I told him I sold them. I did, actually. Once. Bill got them back." She exhaled slowly. "That was when they still meant something." She looked away from him, let her chin fall to rest in her other hand. "It was the second time that he left. Mortgage was due, and I was so mad at him for disappointing us, again. So I sold them, made the payment, and my brothers were furious with me. For letting him come back, for not asking for help, a number of things." She shrugged. "I never wore them again. I wouldn't put them back on. I'm not exactly sure why I kept them."

"Because you don't give up. Even when you want to think that you have, you don't. You were hoping they'd mean something again," Andy stated simply. "Not for you, but maybe for Ricky, or Katie. You weren't in love him anymore, but you couldn't give up on him completely. He was too much a part of your life. You were married to the man for thirty years, and he was a crap husband, but you had two kids together. He was out of your life more than he was in it, but as much as you would like for people to think that you are capable of turning yourself on and off like a switch, that isn't who you are." He reached out, needing to touch her, and ran the back of his hand against her leg from knee to ankle. "You aren't made of stone, Sharon, and you sure as hell aren't made of ice. You still cared, because of the kids, and the good years, and everything that you remembered that made you love him to begin with. There was a reason that you chose him, and beneath the addiction it was there, even if _he_ chose not to remember that." Andy watched the tears fill her eyes, and his hand circled her calf. "It's never easy to admit when you've hurt the people that you love, it's easier to run." Andy knew all too well, he had lived it.

She tipped her head back and blinked rapidly, trying to control the moisture stinging her eyes. "Odd, all our training, all our experience… it doesn't really prepare us for this. Intellectually I know all of that, but it doesn't stop me from feeling guilty because more than anything, I'm so incredibly—"

"Angry." Andy reached for her hand and tugged on it. He pulled her over and settled her across his lap. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"Hm." She tilted her head. When his arms wrapped around her she let herself lean into him, sought the comfort and the warmth his embrace always provided. "I know. I'm furious with _him_ because he's left them with so many regrets and unanswered questions. When he had the opportunity to bridge that gap, he walked away, _again_. He told Rusty once that he'd spent practically his entire adult life negotiating with me. I feel like I've spent mine watching him walk away." Sharon traced his hairline. "It's smart. In a completely morbid sense. Killing Jack. It takes you and I completely out of the investigation, we can't touch it. Not without raising reasonable doubt for any one that might be caught and charged. If it is anyone that you or I have put away in the past, they'll be harder to find without our help. Obviously, it's someone who's been out of touch for a while. It's been almost a year since we sold the condo, and just as long since the divorce."

"Yeah." He didn't like it anymore than she did. His hand slid up her back. It was frustrating as hell, sitting on the sidelines. He had a thousand ideas, and not a one of them could he do anything about. Andy sighed. It was a hell of a situation, bad all the way around. "What do you want to do?"

Sharon shrugged. "About the case? I don't really know right now. We'll find a liaison. In the meantime, there are papers in the safe, which need to be retrieved. Gavin has a few others that I will need. I know Jack had a safety deposit box at one point. I don't know if he still did, or where the key would be. If the boys can figure out where he was staying, the key might be in his belongings. Any papers or items of value would be in the box. He travelled too much to keep them with him or store them elsewhere." A sigh passed her lips and she reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. There was a definite ache behind her eyes. She was tired, they both were. It had been a long day, and an even longer night. There was so much to do. At the gentle brush of lips against her arm, she dropped her hand and cast a warm, grateful look at the man holding her. How much different would this be if she were facing it alone. Her arms moved around his neck and she bent her head until their foreheads were pressed together. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "That you were pulled away from your family for this. That we've pulled you into the middle of th—"

He leaned back, and for just a moment irritation lit his dark eyes. Andy reached up and cupped her face, sought her eyes. "Sharon." He sighed, let the annoyance go. Instead, he shook his head. "You are my family. _We_ are a packaged deal." When he felt the shudder run through her, he drew her down and folded his arms around her. "It's okay," he said, lips gentle against her temple. "Babe, I get it. I won't insult you and say that I liked him, but I get it. There were good years, and when it was good, it was _really_ good. I had that with Amanda too. You can grieve for him. You have to, or it's going to eat you alive."

He would never know just how much it was possible for one man to be loved. She had no words for that. There was nothing that she could voice which would do it justice, or explain the safety that came in an embrace, the warmth which seeped right through her, chasing away the chill and the shadows. She could never adequately describe the security that she felt in being able to cling to him, even for a little while. To allow him to be strong, while she allowed the weight of it all to flow over her. When the tears came, he smoothed them away, and slipped further back on the bed to lay with her. She was completely engulfed, tucked against his chest, seemingly so small against him. She had to be strong for the children, wouldn't allow them to see her like this. She didn't think they could understand how many times over the heart could break and mend, or how it was to love a man and loathe him at the same time. The opposite of love was not hate, but indifference. They wouldn't understand that she could weep for the past, while held so dearly by her present, and her future.

Others might question how they made this work. Their pasts had defined them. Her first husband was a drunk, a man who had gambled away their life together on a dream far more important to him than the children they created together, or the love that he allowed to fade. Andy drank his way to a divorce, spent years working too hard, drinking too much and later, hiding in his work to drown the pain of his mistakes. He worked hard to rebuild, to repair, and to earn back the trust of those he'd hurt. He understood her pain, recognized her guilt. In him, she saw the struggle, the effort. It worked because their pasts had shaped them to fit together so well.

He could waste his time on jealousy. He could find insecurity in the tears of his wife for another man. A few years ago, he might have. Or if it were any other woman, those were emotions he might indulge, or find hard to deny. She deserved more than that. To be loved the best he knew how, even if that meant shouldering the weight of her grief, leaving her free to be strong for her children.

When he felt her settle, and the tears slow to nothing, his hands continued to stroke her back, and comb through her hair. "You should sleep for a few hours," he rumbled quietly.

"I can't." Her head was still tucked into the curve of his neck. "I need to check on Ricky and Katie. Bill and Lillian will be here in a few hours, and I should really—"

"No." It was a tone he rarely used with her, and while he didn't raise his voice, Andy lifted his head and stared pointedly at her. "You've been up for twenty-four hours, Sharon. You aren't going to do any of them any good if you fall over. Close your eyes, just for a little while."

She was exhausted, but her mind wouldn't stop. "Andy," she sighed. "I'd like to, but I can't. I close my eyes and I see him."

"Now or later isn't going to change that," he reminded her gently. "You know that." He pushed her hair behind her ear. "Sleep. I'll keep an eye on the kids."

"You know, they hate it when we treat them like children." She tucked her head into the crook of his neck again, and curled a leg around his. "Maybe you can just stay here for a while."

A small smile curved his lips. "They do get bent out of shape about that," he said, and slipped a hand down to lay comfortably against her hip. "I think they'll be okay for a little while."

"Hmm. Just a few more minutes," she murmured. Sharon didn't think that she could sleep, but the harder she struggled to keep her eyes open, the heavier they felt. She let them close, just for a moment, and felt her body go slack.

Andy waited until he felt her grow heavy against him. The urge to follow was almost too strong to ignore. He slowly untangled from her instead and pulled the blanket, folded at the foot of the bed over her sleeping form. He doubted she would rest for long, but even an hour would be enough. He slumped against the edge of the bed and ran a hand over his face. Fatigue weighed heavily. After just another minute, he pushed himself up. The rings she'd held clasped in her hand were now in his. Andy left them laying atop the jewelry box on their dresser before he made his way back downstairs. What she would do with them now was up to her, but she could tell herself that she held onto them after they no longer had any meaning.

He knew better. He knew _her_.

She married the first man she loved. She held onto them when he left her. He broke her heart, but he couldn't break her. She might have once gotten rid of them in anger, but she held onto them later out of hope. Yes, it had diminished over time. She chose to let go, and to move on, something that he would be eternally thankful for.

Andy realized then, quite oddly, that it wasn't anger he felt. It was pity. Jack had taken her for granted, and now the bastard would never know just how much. Perhaps it was uncharitable of him, but he'd just keep that little piece of information to himself. Later, after things calmed down, he'd call Amanda. Let her rail at him. He'd call his kids, and remind himself just how lucky he was.


	5. Chapter 5

Say Goodnight, Not Goodbye - Chapter 5

by Kadi

Rated: T

* * *

When the doorbell rang at seven the next morning, Andy waved Rusty and Ricky back and approached it cautiously. He glanced through one of the windows in the kitchen which faced the front yard, and found the patrol car still parked in front of the house. The officers inside did not seem the least alarmed. He pulled it open and allowed a small sigh. "Come on in." Andy ran another hand over his face and into his hair as he stepped back, pulling the door with him.

Buzz stepped into the house and stood a bit awkwardly while he looked around. "Is she—"

"Hey." Katie strolled across the living room and into the waiting circle of his arms. She held on tightly and buried her face against the collar of his brown, leather jacket.

Andy stepped around them and his gaze caught Rusty's. The kid rolled his eyes, but turned his attention back to the text book in his lap. Come to think of it, Andy realized he hadn't really turned a page in a while. He was sticking close, but seemed awkward just sitting or standing in the room. "There's coffee," he stated, and walked back into the kitchen to find something resembling food, not that he thought anyone would actually be hungry. Sharon was in the shower, and he was sure the sound of the doorbell would bring her down in another few minutes. She hadn't slept more than two hours, but at least she had slept. He had caught a couple of small catnaps in his chair, it was enough for now.

While Andy scrambled eggs, his wife reappeared. She looked small in her oversized sweater and jeans, and somewhat vulnerable with her hair hanging in loose, damp curls. His eyes followed her around the kitchen as she first poured a cup of coffee and then placed bread in the toaster. He smiled slightly when she pulled bacon out of the fridge, and moved aside to make room for her at the stove. "Carnivore," he teased.

"Yes." She laid her hand against his back, and smiled when he reached up to pull down a skillet for her. "But I like you anyway." His grunt made the corners of her mouth twitch, and she let herself fall into the simple domesticity of making breakfast alongside him. Even if her stomach clenched painfully at the thought of food. When he bent, and his nose playfully nudged her hair aside, she tilted her face toward the kiss that brushed her cheek. Sharon glanced into the living room, and a single brow lifted. "Did you ask?"

"Nope." Andy stirred the eggs slowly. "I like to follow the rules, Captain." Her quiet snort brought a small smile to his face.

"Yes, and I'm really a blond," she drawled quietly.

"You'd be a really hot blond," he rumbled, just as quietly. The look she slanted at him made his brows bob in response.

"You are impossible." She shook her head at him, amused, in spite of everything.

"Yep." He watched her flip bacon as it fried. "You love me anyway."

Sharon stilled. She looked up at him. There was concern in his eyes, and she saw the weight of the grief that she and the kids were carrying reflected there as well. She also saw the warmth, and the lighter gold flecks in his brown eyes that glittered with affection when he looked at her. Her fingers landed lightly against his jaw. "I do," she said softly.

She was unsettled, quite understandably. Andy knew that he wasn't known for his patience. The ground was shifting beneath her feet, and if there was one solid point that he could provide in the hours and days to come, it was this, it was _them. _He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I know." He dropped a quick, almost sloppy kiss to her mouth. "Your bacon is burning." He lifted his skillet and turned away when she huffed in annoyance at the frying meat.

Between the two of them they managed to coordinate something which resembled breakfast, and placed it on the bar which separated the kitchen from the living room. Andy took down plates, and pointedly placed one in his wife's hand. She rolled her eyes at him and he tilted his head at her. "Kids, breakfast," she called out to the others, but made an exaggerated show of placing food on the plate.

Andy stood back against the counter and hid a smirk behind his coffee mug. They filtered in, slowly, and he watched Sharon wrinkle her nose when Rusty poured coffee instead of juice. She held her tongue, the boy was almost nineteen now, but she had other ways of making her displeasure known. This morning, she let it go. I had been a long night. When Katie entered the kitchen, obviously prodded forward, he exchanged a look with his wife. The hand on the girl's hip did not go unnoticed by either of them. Sharon's brow arched. Andy rolled his eyes. When her look turned more pointed, he arched a brow at her instead. Her eyes narrowed and he sighed. Rulebook his foot. "So, Buzz… not that we mind, but shouldn't you be at the station?"

Sharon rolled her eyes again. She obviously had so much still to teach him about the art of subtlety. She cradled her coffee cup in both hands and leaned back in her seat. The man could be about as subtle as a foghorn.

He helped himself to a cup of coffee and chose a spot against the center island to lean. Buzz shrugged. "The Lieutenant sent everyone home to get some rest, we're going back in a couple of hours. Robbery-Homicide was following up on the leads you gave them, Captain." More to the point, her ex-husband's possible location prior to the murder. "SID processed the break-in at Los Feliz, and we were waiting for the reports to come back." He watched the Captain and Lieutenant exchange a look, and really, they weren't fooling him. He just knew they wouldn't ask outright, and there was only so much he could say. There was also only so much that he _would_ say with the others in the room. Buzz glanced at both of them. "Not yet," he replied to the unasked question. Doctor Morales hadn't contacted anyone yet, and the report on DDA Michaels had not yet been returned.

"How's Emma?" It seemed a rather innocuous question, and Rusty found that he was genuinely curious, if a bit concerned. The woman was an utter pain in his backside throughout the entire trial situation, but at some point he began to realize that she was trying to do her job. Even if her job seriously sucked, and her attitude could use some work. Still, he knew her, even if it was on some vague level. She had featured in some of the worst moments in his most recent history.

"Shaken," Buzz stated, and flashed a small smile at him, pleased that he thought to ask. "She wasn't overly injured, but she is obviously more upset than anything. The irony of being forced into police protection has not been lost on her, I assure you. She spent most of yesterday working in your cubicle, Rusty." He no longer spent hours at a time sequestered in the back of the Murder Room, but they all still thought of it as his.

"I heard Andrea's place got trashed too," Rusty stated, after risking a small glance at Sharon and Flynn. "Why would someone go after all of them at once? That's like, a lot to do in a short time, right?"

"Andrea spends hours at the DA's office or in court," Sharon replied. "We have no way of knowing when the break-in occurred. The only absolutes we might have are time of death for DDA Michaels, Emma's accident, and… well…" She glanced at her older children, then shrugged grimly at him.

"Right." Rusty pushed food around his plate. When Katie stood up and walked quietly out of the room, he rose too. "Actually, I think this one is on me," he said, when Buzz seemed ready to follow her. He shoved his hands into his pockets and followed her out onto the patio. She walked to the edge of the pool and stood there, staring at the water. Rusty joined her.

Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself. She glanced at Rusty and sighed quietly. "I don't need a babysitter."

"I hope not," he replied. "If I have to start babysitting the older siblings, I'm going to expect to get paid." Rusty rubbed the tip of his big toe against the edge of the stone which outlined the pool. His feet were bare, and the stone was cool against them. "No where in the adoption papers did it mention babysitting duty. Gavin is kind of sneaky, I should read them again. Really concentrate on the fine print."

She sniffed and tipped her face toward the sky. "I guess it hasn't exactly been a smooth ride so far. We're a bit much, huh?" Katie gave him a sad look. "I guess mom failed to mention that you were going to get us lock, stock, and drunken relatives too."

Rusty felt taken aback. He gave her an incredulous look. "I don't think that… I haven't…" He shook his head, almost frantically. "That's not what I meant." He turned to face her, and in his pockets, his hands clenched tightly. "My whole life hasn't been a smooth ride, you know? There have been some crappy things happen, and it's been kind of nuts, but your family is pretty normal. It hasn't all been bad either."

"I know." She looked away again and sighed. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just thinking that we keep throwing a lot of stuff at you, and it was never supposed to be _your_ job to take care of _us_."

He shook his head at her. "There's something that I've learned the last few years, and I think it's that this is all supposed to be pretty much mutual. Just don't tell your mom, she gets all weird and emotional when she thinks I'm being normal and growing up or something." Rusty leaned slightly toward her, his shoulder nudging hers. "Come on, how much more normal could my life get? Right down to the whole sister dating my friends thing, seriously? Talk about awkward."

Katie nudged him back and rolled her eyes. "Shush. We're not dating."

He watched her cheeks color a distinct shade of pink and smirked. "Course not, you stay out all night with all your friends and come back wearing yesterday's dress all the time. Got it."

She made a face at him and sighed. "Okay, fine. Whatever. Can we not discuss my sex life?"

"Oh my god!" His hands slapped over his ears and he groaned. "I could have lived my whole life without you going there."

Katie smirked. "Don't try to out Sharon me, Rusty Beck. I am genetically prone to better bouts of Sharonness than you. Not to mention the whole lifetime of exposure. I'll see your three years and raise them twenty-_something_."

"You're a little young for vague age references, although I suppose thirty is looming pretty closely these days, but fine." He shuddered. "You win."

Silence descended on them again, until all they heard were the sounds of traffic in the distance, and the pool filter nearby. A scratching at the patio door drew her attention, and Katie walked over to let the dog out. Her hand rubbed over the smooth, soft head as the five-month old German Shepard bounded past her. Beauty had been her Christmas present from her mother and Andy, although the look her mother shot at him every time they found something new and more interesting destroyed told the truth about that one. They had all learned rather quickly not to leave anything within reach of the pup. "I should take her for a walk," She said quietly.

"You mean you should let her take you," Rusty shook his head. "Sharon's not going to let you out of here without an escort, just so you know. She takes the whole police escort thing seriously, and don't even think about trying to evade. Talk about blowing a gasket."

"It will be fine," she said vaguely, and was reminded for the reason why, not that she could forget. It was always there now, in the back of her mind. Along with so much else. Katie chewed on the corner of her bottom lip. "I just keep thinking about how mean I was the last time I saw him," she admitted in a small voice. "I said a lot of really—"

"You said the truth," Rusty reminded her. "Sometimes it's not pleasant. Sometimes it hurts. You said what you needed to, and he had to hear it." He had a feeling that was what was bothering her.

"I suppose," she shrugged. "I think the part that really bothers me, is that I keep thinking that I would do it again. Mainly because I know you're right, it was true. That's what is really sad. It sucks because now I'll never know, and that's just so selfish."

"Not really." He thought about it. "I mean, you won't know if he would ever change, because there was always still that chance. It's not selfish, it's just the way it is, I think." Rusty rubbed the bottom of his foot against the edge of the pool. "He didn't stay in rehab, but he didn't leave town this time either."

"No," she agreed. "He didn't." That was something, she supposed. Odd, though it was. The one time he should have left town, and he didn't. "Want to go evade the cops with me? You are the expert, as I recall." Katie inclined her head at him, effectively changing the subject.

"Well," He said at length. "If you're going to do it, you might as well do it right." Rusty shrugged. "Let me get some shoes on. They're occupied pretending to eat. We'll go out the side gate."

"So sneaking around is the key, got it." Katie nodded. "Grab my shoes too, will you? Oh, and one of us should have a phone."

"Seriously?" Rusty pulled it out of his pocket. "You call yourself my sister." He shook his head as he walked back inside. Rusty walked through the house to the stairs. He made short work of retrieving both their shoes, and the dog's leash.

Gavin arrived nearer to eight, bringing with him a briefcase and a cardboard file with several documents. "Hi sweetie." He wrapped his old friend in a hug and held on longer than he would have normally. "I brought everything. Oh, and you know the inmates have escaped yes? I saw them a block over with that adorable _creature_ your husband acquired at Christmas."

"Hm." Sharon rolled her eyes. "I saw Rusty sneak out with the leash, I expected as much. Andy called the other car we have patrolling the neighborhood. They're keeping an eye on everything. He's sharing his bad habits."

"Indeed." Gavin passed the box into her hands and walked into the kitchen following the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. "Oh look, heart attack on a plate. Sweetie, I don't know why you bother with the whole grain toast if you're just going to add bacon into the mix." That didn't stop him from snagging a piece of both. "You can't even blame your Lieutenant for this one, I know better." He pointed the bacon at her. "He doesn't eat it, so this bad habit is all yours."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she drawled out of habit. The box was now on her desk and she had the lid off, sorting through all of it. "I have three grown children to cook for," She lifted her head and waved vaguely toward where Buzz stood talking with Andy, "and their _friends_."

"Oh god," he made a face. "They're not still using that excuse are they?" Gavin's nose wrinkled. "They cannot honestly believe that anyone still buys that. Or ever bought it, actually. I certainly didn't." He leaned a hip against the edge of her desk and tore off a corner of the toast. "I could almost swear we taught her better than that."

Sharon arched a brow at him. She looked pointedly at the food in his hand and tilted her head. "Do not get crumbs on my carpet. Napkin or plate, please."

Gavin simply smirked. "I am not one of your wayward children, darling." He kissed the top of her head as he straightened, but did step over to the bar with it. "I love you anyway, even when you're supremely bossy." He folded himself gracefully onto a stool. "Speaking of, two of them escaped, where is the eldest?"

"Shower." Sharon pulled out a folder which contained the original will, an insurance policy she had taken out on Jackson years ago, and a few other pertinent documents. Also filed in the box was the copy of their divorce papers, along with a copy of the marriage license. She had copies of the will and insurance policy, but it was the originals that she knew that she would need. "I'll need you to fax a copy of these to Lieutenant Provenza, it's hardly much, but motive is motive. At least until he gets the records from the airline."

"Hm, indeed." Gavin wiped his hands clean on a napkin and moved back to her side. "I'll take care of it. Unless he had a more recent Will, this should do. Officially, as I'm sure you know, Richard and Katherine are next of kin, as long as they or his brother go along with whatever you decide, there shouldn't be any problem with anything he might have in estate or the burial—"

"Anything I decide?" Sharon shook her head at him. "Gavin."

He gave her a knowing look. "We both know you're not going to leave this up to the kids." Gavin took the papers out of her hands, it had been a while since he had read through any of them. "It wouldn't matter if they were thirty or fifty, you still wouldn't allow them to go through this alone."

"No," she admitted. "I wouldn't. That isn't why I had you bring all of this over. Gavin." She sighed. "It isn't—" She bit off and her jaw clenched. She looked stubbornly away and drew a thin breath. "It's not for me, it's for Bill. He's on his way down, and _of course_ I have every intention of being present for any of them, however they need me, but…" She looked up at him and her eyes were dark with emotion. Grief and anger, and resignation. "It really is not…" She trailed off and shook her head. It was hard to explain, or rather, it was easy, but she was having a hard time finding the right words. "I was going to say it's not my place anymore, but while that's true, it doesn't really apply. I think the more apt explanation is that he's not mine to take care of any longer." Sharon shook her head. "I'm not really sure that he ever was."

"Don't do that." Gavin glowered at her, although it lacked any true heat. He pulled her to him and hugged her again. "He was a selfish bastard, a lousy partner, and an even worse father. No." He held on tighter when she tried to pull away from him. "I'm not being purposefully uncharitable, or even cruel. It's the truth, you can't deny the kind of man he was just because he's dead. That doesn't suddenly erase all of the hell that he put you through. That doesn't change that he walked out on you and two kids and then continued to hurt all three of you time and again because he couldn't see beyond his own selfish wants. You loved him, and there was nothing wrong with that. He gave up on you, not the other way around. You forget, Sharon, I was there for a good chunk of it. You cried on my couch too many times, don't try and pretend otherwise. What I won't allow you to do is discount that you were ever loved in return. That would be preposterous. You're perfectly lovable." Gavin smiled a bit. "Although you should come with a warning label. Handle with care, prone to bouts of prickliness."

Sharon poked his side. "That's better. I thought you were going a bit emotional on me." Her voice was muffled against his shoulder. "Gavin." She pushed against him. "Too much touching."

"Yes dearest." He smirked as he withdrew. "For gods sake, do something with your hair before you go out in public." Gavin rolled his eyes. "Someone might mistake you for an actual person."

"Careful," She warned with a small smile. "Don't overcompensate." She swept moisture away from her eyes and turned her attention back on the documents he brought. They went back too far for the bickering to have any meaning. It was well rehearsed and second nature.

"Of course not." He picked up his brief case and opened it. He took another folder out and passed it to her. "Fill these out, or get the brother to do it. Whoever is going to handle everything needs to complete the forms. I'll have Samantha email you a copy of my schedule," he said, speaking of his assistant. "You will call me." It was not a suggestion.

"Yes." She gave him a small smile. "Thank you, honey."

"Hm." He drained the last of his coffee and walked toward the door. "Oh, for the record, love it." Gavin pointed to the kitchen. "A-plus," he told Flynn. He stopped at the door and glanced at Sharon, her attention was back on the paperwork. He gave the Lieutenant a significant look.

Andy rolled his eyes and nodded. As if he needed to be told to keep an eye on his wife, but he would let it go this once. He looked over when Buzz's phone rang. "Provenza?"

"Lieutenant Tao," he said. "We're being called back." He put the phone back in his pocket and carried his coffee cup into the kitchen.

"Buzz," Sharon caught his attention as he reached for his jacket. "Thank you for stopping by."

"Yes ma'am," he smiled.

"Oh, and Buzz," her attention dropped to the paperwork she was sorting. "If you see my runaway offspring on your way out, please remind them just how much I adore it when they evade the protection they are being provided."

"Yes ma'am," he said again, with a broader smile. Especially Rusty who knew better. He shared a look with the Lieutenant as he left.

"You can't ground them," Andy reminded her with a small smile. "It gets pretty pointless when they become adults."

"Yes, I know." She glanced up and smirked. "I don't have to say a word now, so perhaps having certain _friends_ hanging around isn't such an issue when they choose to misbehave."

"Maybe." He walked over and ran his hands down her arms. His chin dropped to rest against her shoulder. "In other worlds, Buzz can deliver the sarcastic smack down like no one else."

"Well, he has his moments," She drawled. Sharon leaned back against him and stacked the needed documents on top of the box. The doorbell drew both their attention, but before he could pull away from her, she grabbed his hands where they had fallen to rest against her waist. "Wait. Just…" She tipped her head against his and just stood there for another moment. "Okay," said, exhaling quietly. She stepped away from him and ran her fingers through her hair.

Andy moved to the door and glanced through the window beside it before drawing it open. There was a specific list of visitors they had warned the officers out front about. Sharon's brother-in-law was one of them. She hadn't told any of her family yet, that would come soon enough. He opened the door to her brother-in-law and his wife, and stepped back. "Bill, Lillian."

"Andy." The older man nodded, his face was set in grim, tired lines. He took the handshake when it was offered. "Where is—" He stopped speaking when he spotted her.

Lillian Raydor stepped into the house with her husband and paused at the door with the man her sister-in-law had married. She lay a hand on his arm and smiled sadly. "How are they," she asked quietly.

"Eh," Andy shrugged as he closed the door behind them. "It's hard to say from one moment to the next. It's, well, you know." She had been an observer for far longer than he had.

"Unfortunately, I do," she said.

"Bill." Sharon tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. She stood rooted to her spot as he approached. "I'm sorry."

"I know." He pulled her to him. It was an odd bond, rooted in shared disappointment and regret, now colored by grief. He had always counted himself among her brothers. He knew that his had hurt her. "Any news?" He felt the tremor run through her when he asked, and sighed.

"Not yet. It may be a while before I hear anything. I'll try to get an update later." She took a step back and gazed beyond him. "Lily."

"Hi honey," she moved forward and wrapped her in a quick, one-armed hug. "We told Alan and Susan. We didn't think you'd mind. They said they'd speak to your parents."

"That's actually a big help, thank you." Sharon glanced up at the sound of footfalls on the stairs. "Better?"

Ricky nodded. "Much. I feel like a human again." He ran a hand over his still damp hair. He kept extra clothes at the house, a throwback from his college days. "Uncle Bill." He came further down into the living room, and more hugs were exchanged. "Where did the Bean and Squirt get off to?"

"Walking the dog," Sharon rolled her eyes. She shot a look at her husband.

"Yes, that's my fault." He looked skyward. "I am a horrible human for gifting my stepdaughter with a puppy."

"Well, I wouldn't put it that way _exactly_," Sharon folded her arms over her chest. "Bad definitely applies."

Lillian arched a brow. "Which pair of shoes was it?"

Andy pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm more upset by how much replacing them cost me."

"The blue Manolos," Sharon said with a small smile.

"Oh." Lillian nodded quietly. "Yes, that would do it."

Instead of replying, Andy just shook his head. "Coffee," he asked of them instead. When they accepted, he made his escape to the kitchen.

"Katie and Rusty will be back shortly, I'm sure. I've sent word that they should return. Soon." She gestured them toward the seating area and when Andy returned with the coffee, she perched on the arm of his recliner.

They chose one side of the large sectional, Ricky settled himself on the other. "How does this work exactly," Bill asked, diving right in to it. "I assume he's still…" He trailed off, gesturing with his hand.

"Yes," an arm circled her waist and Sharon glanced warmly at her husband. "It may be a couple of days before the—Jack is released. We need to make sure that any information we can get has been gathered. Sometimes, we can't release the—process the final paperwork until the investigation has run its course." The hand at her hip squeezed gently, each time she almost tripped over the familiar lingo. She was trying to compartmentalize it behind their work, and in this instance, it simply wasn't possible. "The coroner's office will call once that determination is made, but…"

"It's a high profile case," Andy continued. "They're going to be moving as quickly as possible to get anyone involved, and given the identity of those effected, the Coroner's office will move pretty fast. Couple of days, at best."

"Which means that you can get all of the arrangements in place, and then move forward with a more definite plan once the release comes through," Sharon added in a softer voice.

"Yeah alright." Bill didn't like it. He ran a hand over his hair, then glanced at his nephew. "You okay, kid?"

He was leaning forward, elbows against his knees. "I don't really know. Bean and I both had words with him a couple of months ago, and the whole thing is just…" Ricky shrugged. "Still waiting for reality to kick in, I guess." His hands were clasped loosely together. "Kind of hard to miss someone who was never around, but there you have it."

The front door opened before he could reply. Katie and Rusty entered. She unclipped the dog's leash and grinned. "Go get mom."

The five-month-old pup bounded into the room, tail wagging. She ran straight to Sharon and yipped happily. "Oh Katie, honestly." She turned sideways in the chair and threw her legs across her husband's lap to avoid being jumped on. Sharon rolled her eyes and reached down to rub the dog's ears.

"You know that she loves you best," Katie strolled into the room. "You have all the best chew toys." Upon spotting her aunt and uncle, she moved immediately to hug both of them, and found herself enveloped in a tight bear hug that made her throat ache and her eyes sting. "Hi."

"You look good," he told her, and lifted her chin before turning it this way and that. "You've put on weight," Bill said, approvingly.

"I am totally in love with the carbs," she replied, her smile sad. "Andy does a lot of cooking that involves pasta and bread. I can almost wear mom's jeans. Yay me."

"And somehow _I_ don't feel so great about that," Sharon drawled, looking down at her husband. The dog moved on, to inspect the new comers, and she shifted back to the arm of the chair.

His hand swatted at her hip, playfully. "Seems pretty okay to me."

It earned him a warm smile. "Good answer."

"I'm learning," He shrugged. "I'm going to write a book later. I'm going to call it, _What Would Provenza Not Do_. It's going to be fantastic."

"Oh, I'm sure," she agreed. "I promise to buy the first copy."

"I'll even sign it for you," he promised.

"Yes," Ricky told his uncle, "they are always this weird."

"Weirder," Rusty moved to the armchair in the corner and dropped into it. He snapped his fingers and drew Beauty's attention. When the dog lay her head on his knee, he busied both of them by stroking her soft fur.

"The younger generation understands so very little," Lillian remarked with a smile.

Her husband grunted his agreement. "Well," his hand remained where it was, against his niece's shoulder. "It's not going to be easy, but I think we should get going on this thing." He glanced at his nephew. Your mother was right, we can get the ball rolling."

"Yeah." Ricky nodded slowly and stood. "It's not going to plan itself, I guess."

"No, I'm afraid not," Sharon said. She pushed off her perch and walked to the desk in the corner of the room. "Gavin stopped by while you were in the shower. I have everything you need." She took the stack of files and documents and held them out to her son. "The papers on top will need to be completed for Gavin." She hesitated for a moment, the part of her that wanted to protect them from everything came forward. "Ricky, I can—"

"No." He glanced at his uncle and then took the burden out of her hands. "I appreciate that, but we've got this. You're already helping. It's maybe time we started doing some of the hard things on our own. You're here, and we know that. If we need you, you'll be there, but, it's our turn to carry the load, so to speak. Besides, ma, you've got a new life now, and that sounded _so_ horrible." Ricky cringed. "I just meant that, while dad didn't go looking for this situation, it's not up to you to clean up after him anymore, and it's sounding even worse. I should just stop saying words." He just didn't know how to convey to his mother that he didn't want to hurt her more than his father already had, by asking her to bury the man who'd left her time and again.

"Fortunately, I know what you're trying to say." She pulled him to her and hugged him tightly. "Remind me to get you the second copy of Andy's book. I adore you, Richard, so much. I'm here, if you need me." She drew back and held out her other arm, pulling Katie close when she joined them. "When I told the two of you to go forth and be adult, this wasn't what I envisioned," she said softly. "No one is expecting the two of you to shoulder this alone, so when it becomes to much, I expect you to let me know. Understood?"

"We understand," they murmured. She drew back and gave them a pointed look. Katie and Richard exchanged a look and both of them managed small smiles. "We understand," they repeated.

"Okay." She held them a moment longer and then let go. "Why don't you use the dining room. It will be quiet, and the table will give you plenty of room to spread everything out."

"It's this way," Katie led the way down the short hall past the kitchen.

Bill and Ricky followed her, but Lillian paused for just a moment. "They won't be alone," she promised.

"I know," voice thick with emotion, Sharon folded her arms over her chest. "You'll keep an eye on him too?"

"I always do." She touched her sister-in-law's arm, and then Lillian joined the others.

Arms circled her from behind, held her close. Andy nuzzled her cheek. "Let's go break some rules. We'll call Provenza and see what they've got."

"I thought you liked the rules," she managed, past the knot in her throat.

"That must have been the other Andy," he turned her, slipped his arms around her waist. "The very naughty one that likes to bring horrible shoe-chewing-mongrels into your house."

"Hm." She nodded slowly. Her eyes glistened a bit too brightly, but she blinked back the moisture. "I thought we already discussed how you'd gotten rid of him?"

"Did we?" His lips pursed. "I don't remember that. Must have been a dream. But it does make me feel better to know that you have been dreaming about me."

"Hm." He could make her smile, even when it hurt to do so. She leaned in to him gratefully. "Well, then I suppose we'd best go make those calls."

His hands went to her shoulders. Andy pushed her back a step and studied her closely. "You're advocating breaking the rules? Who are you? Are you the bad Sharon, what happened to the good Sharon?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Hiding her shoes," she said slowly.

"And she's back." Andy took her hand. He drew her with him toward the patio, where they could make those calls away from the others. "Hey Rusty, hold down the fort, yeah?"

"You got it." He looked at the dog. "We're in charge." He held up a hand, "high five." When she inclined her head at him, Rusty sighed. "We'll work on that one. Right after we work on _not_ chewing Sharon's shoes. I get that she's got like, fifty million of them, but really? Work with me here."

"Hey Sharon, we should get the kid more friends," Andy told her. "He's talking to the canine. It's mildly disturbing."

She pushed him out the door ahead of her. "He's teaching her a valuable lesson. One that you should learn. How could I marry a man with so many suits and so little shoe appreciation?"

"I appreciate your shoes just fine. Love them in fact, particularly when you're in them. I could also explain the whole marriage thing, but pretty sure that's a Rule 1 violation as far as the kid is concerned."

"I can still hear you," Rusty said.

Andy reached around his wife and pushed the patio door closed. "That's better." He pulled out his phone and squinted at her. "You sure? Because he's going to tell me whatever I ask, and you're probably just going to feel guilty about it later." When she folded her arms across her chest and stared at him, he nodded. "Right, 'cause I'm actually the one breaking the rules, and it's really more like _bending_ them." Her head tilted and he started dialing. "Really, it's more a case of you eavesdropping on a private conversation, so it isn't as if you've done anything wrong." When she smiled, he shook his head. "You're diabolical, you know that right?"

"Hm." She shrugged.

"Modest too." He waited for his partner to pick up. "Hey, it's me. Tell me you've got something. The natives are getting restless around here."

"You know I can't answer that," Provenza replied. "Didn't we have this talk, not too long ago if I remember, about doing things the _right_ way to keep certain people out of trouble. Namely you and a little brunette you just _had_ to have." He walked away from the rest of the team and the SID personnel that were going over the inside of the motel room they had tracked down as Jackson Raydor's last residence.

"Yeah, whatever." Flynn rolled his eyes at his wife. "Look, I get it alright, but I need to be able to tell them something. The brother showed up, and he's in with the step kids planning a funeral, so give me _something _that I can relay to everyone."

Provenza groaned. "Alright listen, we don't have a lot right now. I can tell you we figured out where he was staying. It's the primary scene. Morales hasn't come back with an autopsy report yet. Prelim indicates it was quick. We got prints from the break-in at Los Feliz. We're running them. That's all you get. That's going to have to keep her Supreme Wickedness and all the little munchkins satisfied for now."

"What about DDA Michaels," He asked, pushing, but that's what he did best.

"Same MO, same killer," Provenza replied. "Now _that_ is really all you get. Now leave me alone, I have actual work to do."

"Yeah well," he groused back, "the sooner you solve this thing, the sooner the rest of us can get back to work."

"Ha-ha, funny guy." Provenza hung up on him.

"There are days I don't know what I ever saw in that guy," Andy deadpanned. He shoved his phone back into his pocket. He relayed the information that he had.

"It's not a lot," she said. "I was expecting him to give you a little more than that." Her lips pursed. "Since when does he care about following the rules."

Andy shrugged. "It's this thing we're trying."

"Why," she asked at length, eyes narrowing. She was mildly disturbed by the idea.

"What? We need to have a reason? It's just a thing," he told her. When she both tilted her head and folded her arms over her chest he sighed. "We just sort of figured that if we flew under the radar a little more, then, you know… Taylor would stay off your ass about certain things." He gestured between them. "For one."

"_Andy_." She rolled her eyes at him, but stepped forward to slide her arms around him. "That's very sweet, and very appreciated, but stop it," she added, stressing the last. "It's not just odd, it's damned terrifying."

"See, this is the part where you get really hard to figure out," He said. "When we don't follow the rules, you yell at us. When we do follow the rules, you want us to stop, because it's freaking you out." Andy shook his head at her. "Love you like crazy, babe, but I really don't get you sometimes."

"Good." She leaned up and kissed him. It was brief, and almost chaste. Then she turned and walked back to the house.

"I think, what I should do instead," Andy muttered to himself, "Is write a manual on how to figure out crazy wives."

"Heard that," her voice rang from just inside.

"Damn." He followed, shaking his head. "Definitely nothing wrong with her hearing."

Once back inside, Andy found his wife hovering near his recliner. He took a seat, unsurprised when she planted herself in the chair with him. They leaned back in it and she curled against him. A tremor ran through her and he slipped a hand slowly up and down her back in a gentle caress. He knew that she was struggling not to just take over the entire situation, tuck everyone away, and deal with it for them. It wasn't easy, watching her children hurt. Yet in this instance, there was truly nothing that she could do. They had to face this on their own terms, in their own way.

How much simpler it would be to close herself off from it, tuck it all away in a nice little compartment at the back of her mind. Instead, she burrowed closer and when he took her hand in his, their fingers slowly twined together. She concentrated on that, on the strength of him wrapped around her and let the rest come and go as it pleased, the ebb and flow of the ocean tide. Grief and regret mingled with emotions evoked by memories of happier times. There was no other choice but to just feel it.

She had loved him once. It was wild and passionate, at a time when she was much younger and filled with big dreams and optimism. Before she knew what it was to ache so deeply that it permeated everything. Before she knew that some vows were not meant to be kept. When life and love were all bright and shiny, before the loneliness and the tears, and the anger.

Sharon had already grieved the loss of her marriage. That was long since over. She had moved on, with a man who reminded her what it was to love and feel loved in return. Now she grieved for the man, for the laughing, charming boy that he once was. Long years stretched between then and now, with a lot of broken promises and unrealized dreams. It was the children that she grieved for most of all, and that ache went so much deeper. It was cold, like a chill to her very soul. She trembled again and felt his arms curl more tightly around her. Here there was safety, love, warmth. She let it sweep through her. There was much that she wanted in life, but so little that she actually _needed_; her children to be happy and to be safe, and this… _this_ man, loving her so simply, and yet so completely. It was like a blanket, surrounding her, helping to chase away the cold ache of loss that wanted to take root.

Her head lifted and she sought his gaze. Her lips pressed together, but the request in her eyes was easily read. _Don't let go_.

The response came, lighting the dark depths of his brown eyes. Just as easily interpreted. _Never. _


	6. Chapter 6

Say Goodnight, Not Goodbye - Chapter 6

by Kadi

Rated: T

* * *

The late afternoon sun cast its warmth in hues of orange and deep red, chasing away the chill of the morning hours and pushing away the shadows which had filled the Flynn home. They gathered on the patio, enjoying the heat of the day and trying to find some sense in the chaos. Alan and Susan had joined them earlier in the day, Sharon's brother and sister-in-law had driven down from Summerland to be with the family and were staying at the same nearby hotel as Bill and Lillian. The struggle to find meaning in the grief had given way to stories. They were of much better times, happier times; the sort that Sharon's children had few of. It had become important to remind Ricky and Katie that their father was not always the absent, illogical, and often irresponsible man that they had come to know.

Susan Cavanagh laughed as she recounted one of her earliest memories Jack. "Alan and I hadn't been married for very long," she recited. "I don't think that it had even been a year yet. I'd only met the family a few times. Of course, Alan and Bill were good friends, so I had met Jack and Sharon. This was before you," she said, looking at Ricky. "They had this dinky little apartment, if you could even call it that. Jack was still in Law School, and someone had decided for some _insane_ reason to let this one," she hooked a thumb at Sharon, "walk around carrying a gun."

"Oh god." Sharon groaned, she knew where this story was going. She covered her eyes and sighed. "I cannot believe that you're going to do this to me."

Alan laughed. "Yes, she is. If she doesn't, I was going to have to."

"Hm." Bill just shook his head and chuckled quietly. His hand rested against the back of his wife's neck. "It's a good one." He was watching his niece and nephew, and the way that they seemed to hang on almost every word.

"Yes." Susan smirked. "So, the guys are at our place, all three of them. They were out screwing around with this horrible, ugly old Buick that Alan drove back then. Or at least, he drove it when it actually worked, which wasn't very often. Usually because the boys had been screwing with it. Sharon calls," she chuckled when her sister-in-law groaned a second time. "She's looking for Jack, of course, and I called him in to the phone. She tells him to come home. Now. I remember, Jack tried to tell her it was going to be at least another hour, but he would come right home, and did she need him to stop for anything. _No_," Susan lifted tea glass. "That wasn't going to work. She wanted him home _now_. Well they only had the one car, and she had it, so Jack was riding with Bill. He went back outside and had to explain to the guys that he needed to go home. Wife called, she's pissed, he has no idea what he's done but he's got to get home. Of course, _they_ give him a hard time," She waved a hand at her husband and his friend. "Jack is like, you don't understand, you don't know my wife. So Alan tells him, buddy, you don't understand, I _grew up_ with _your_ wife. If you let her walk all over you now, you are done for pal. So Jack tells him, fine. You can explain it to her then, but I'm telling you right now, you grew up with your _sister_, and I'm talking about my _wife_, who is going to make me sleep in the car. At which point the other two start laughing, and Jack tells them, she's done it before!"

Sharon had drawn her feet up so that her heels rested against the edge of the adirondack chair that she was seated in. She sank further into the seat and covered her face with her hands while the others laughed. "You are horrible."

"Bill looks at Jack," Susan continued, "and he's like, you let your wife make you sleep in the car? And Jack says, Man, I don't _let_ her do anything. Alan is just rolling at that point, and he asks, what did you do? So Jack has to explain that he forgot to do the laundry… and the dishes… and pay the electric bill. And we're all thinking, okay, so maybe the car thing wasn't that mean after all. Jack explains to the boys that, he has no idea what he's forgotten to do this time, but if they get him home now, he can probably get out of it. Well, the guys decide they're hungry anyway, so we're going to go and get something to eat. Like the good pals they are, we'll swing by and get Sharon, and there's no way she's going to light into him while there are people around and we're someplace public. She'll have time to cool down."

"Or get even madder," Alan pointed out with a laugh. "Either way, we were looking out."

"Right," Susan cleared her throat. "Well we drove over to the apartment and we went upstairs." She bit her lip and snickered. She watched her sister-in-law hide her face in her knees. "We go inside, and she is _on_ the kitchen counter. I mean, _literally_, she is _on_ it and she is not coming down. The three of us are thinking, _okay this is new. _Well, Jack looks at her and he just shakes his head. He walks over and he's like, where? Like this is nothing at all out of the ordinary. We," she gestured at herself, Alan and Bill, "are thinking where what? She just does this pointing gesture, and sure enough, right there in the middle of the kitchen floor there is this very large spider. I mean, huge. Every bit the size of a nickel."

Alan looked at Bill. "Dime, maybe."

"If we're being generous," he replied. "Let's just give her the nickel."

"Okay, I seem to remember this being much different," Sharon replied, glaring at them. "For one, the thing was huge. It wasn't a spider, it was a tarantula and it belonged to one of our idiot neighbors. It had gotten out of the cage thing. _Again._"

"It was just a baby," Susan continued. "So, anyway, as Sharon said, this had happened before. So Jack goes over and beats on the wall to get the neighbor to come over. Apparently they had this whole system worked out, the thing was always getting out. In the meantime, he gets a bowl down and contains it. Well, Alan decides he needs to get a closer look at it."

"Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time," Her husband added.

"Alan takes the bowl from Jack and the next thing we know, he's thrusting the thing at Sharon and you have never seen a woman move so fast in your life," Susan laughed. "She is off that counter, over the table, and _hiding_ behind Jack. Well, the neighbor collects his little friend, and after reading her brother the riot act, she tells Jack that he is moving her _out_ of that dump. They are going to live with her parents, they can live in a shelter, she really doesn't care, but he is getting her out of there and soon. She is tired of finding the neighbor's pets all over her apartment, and she is _not_ going to have a baby in that creature infested zoo. So Jack is telling her to calm down, they can move, and she doesn't have to worry about it because they're going to get a house before they even think about having kids." Susan paused, while she waited for the guys and the kids to stop laughing, or at least calm down enough they could hear what she was saying. "So she walks over and she picks up the newspaper that's laying on the coffee table and slaps it against his chest and says, _then you better start looking buddy, because you've got about seven and a half months. I'll be at my parents', you can call me_."

"I thought he was going to pass right out," Alan was laughing. He laid a hand on his wife's knee and leaned slightly forward. "She wasn't kidding," he gestured at his sister. "Sharon is in the bedroom packing a bag, and Jack is just standing there. Not moving, hardly even breathing. And then he looks at Bill." He looked at his friend, who had started to laugh. "Who just puts up his hands, shakes his head and says, _I didn't do it_."

"He finally figures out that he probably needs to go and actually _talk_ to the crazy woman that's packing everything she owns in the bedroom," Bill said, still chuckling.

"Of course, we followed," Alan said.

"Naturally," Susan agreed. "We weren't about to leave it at that. This apartment is extremely tiny, so what they call a bedroom is barely big enough for a bed. So we are all crowded outside the door," she gestured at herself and the two men. "She's not even folding, it's just going into the bag. Jack is trying to reason with her, and of course, he's still not quite sure he understands exactly _what_ is going on. About that time she pulls a box from under the bed, and this mouse scurries across the room."

"Ol Jack is still in a bit of a daze," Alan continued. "He doesn't realize that she's about to lose it. The whole time they've been in there, they've been debating whether or not she said what it is that he thinks she said. So the mouse goes skittering across the room, and Sharon just looks at him. From past experience I can tell that she is either about to scream or cry. Jack just stands there and shakes his head, and says, just as calm as anyone could be, _Hey baby, maybe we should move out_."

Sharon ran the hand that was covering her eyes through her hair and laughed quietly. "We stayed with Alan and Susan for a week, until we found another apartment."

"Mmhm," Susan chuckled. "She made the boys pack the place up, she wouldn't even go back for moving day."

"Really?" Rusty leaned forward and craned a look at her. "Over a spider and a mouse?" He was squinting at her, not quite sure he believed it all. "That's kind of insane."

"I don't like them." She shrugged. "I could have handled the mouse, but I just…" Sharon shuddered, even now thinking back on it. "Nope, I was not stepping back in that dump, not even for a second." Beside her, she noticed that Andy was still laughing. Sharon reached over and nudged him. "It wasn't that funny."

"It was," he assured her. "I'm factoring in everything that I know about you, and it's damned hysterical sweetheart. Of course, I know exactly how you are about those things. I'm just glad you didn't decide to move out two months after you moved in and found that little wolf spider out in the garage."

"No," she drawled. "I made you clean out the garage instead."

"Mom doesn't do spiders," Ricky agreed.

"Do you remember that ugly green jacket?" Katie drew her legs into her chair and laughed. "He wore it everywhere."

"Hm." Sharon shook her head. "It used to be great, but it was old and faded, and had really seen better days. Every time I'd throw it out, it would show up again. I could not understand _why_ he just had to have that thing. It was hideous. I remember we were going out one night, and he put that stupid thing on. I finally asked him what it was about that jacket, and of course he made me feel about two inches tall when he reminded me that it was the first thing I'd ever given him."

"I remember when you moved into that house over on Windsor," Alan stated. "Ricky was almost two. They found this place, and it had a decently sized yard. It wasn't bad at all. So Jack went and got this second hand lawnmower." He paused a bit when his sister began laughing. "The lawn is looking fabulous, and I just can't figure it out. Every time I would go over, the thing hadn't moved. So I asked him about it. He told me, _don't tell your sister, but I'm paying the kid down the street. I have no idea what that thing is supposed to do, but it sure does look good_."

"Oh god, he really did." Sharon laughed. "The funniest part was, I knew all about it. The kid had been by twice while I was home. The grass was mowed, I was happy, so I let Jack have his fun with it." She waved a hand through the air. "As long as he was happy, I didn't really care. We had an agreement, the outside was his, and he wasn't allowed to do anything with the inside. _Especially_ the kitchen."

Bill began to laugh. "You came by it naturally," he told his niece. "Jack was a disaster in the kitchen."

"Oh lord." Lillian leaned forward giggling. "One moment sticks out in my mind. Sharon was pregnant with Katie. Miserably sick, the complete opposite of how it had been with Ricky. I was new to the family. Bill and I married right before Ricky was born. He and Alan were still in the service, moving here, there, and everywhere. So we really didn't see everyone very often. We were back in Los Angeles, and it was a holiday, but not a very big one…"

"Easter," Her husband supplied for her, chuckling.

"Yes," she nodded. "Well, we were all getting together at Jack and Sharon's. Alan and Susan, Bill and I, and I think Helen was going to try and make it with her crew. Well, Sharon was just horribly sick, but instead of canceling Jack decides he'll take care of dinner."

Sharon had her head once again resting against the back of her seat. She laughed quietly, shoulders shaking. Her eyes were alight with amusement at the memory. "He tried, he really did. I was sitting outside, all curled up with a blanket and watching Ricky play. Basically just keeping him out of the house. He was so confident that he could handle it, how hard could it be." Her lips pressed together, forming a thin line while she tried not to laugh as she spoke. Her voice lilted with it instead. "Well, Jack stepped out, and I notice this god awful smell. He told me not to worry about it, he's got it under control. He'll be back in ten. How he managed to burn a precooked ham that just needed to be heated, I will never understand, but we ended up with takeout Chinese instead."

"And Sharon spent a week at our place because she couldn't handle the smell," Susan laughed.

"Yes, I did." Sharon nodded. "But Jack scrubbed that house top to bottom before I went home, and never touched my kitchen again. Unless it was breakfast. He could do breakfast." She glanced at the man beside her, who had taken her hand while she spoke. Andy lifted her hand to his lips and she smiled at him. She squeezed his hand and turned her attention back on her children. They had so few memories of their father before his struggle with his addictions broke their family apart.

"He had his moments," Ricky said quietly, as if sensing the shift in his mother's mood. "After Kate was born, he used to take me with him down to the horse track, just to get me out of Mom's hair. I never understood that we weren't supposed to be there, I just remember having a lot of fun. Or the times that he'd come with us, when I went to a ball game with Uncle Alan, Uncle Bill and the boys."

"He was struggling," Sharon said quietly. "None of our plans were working out the way that we thought they would, and he did try." She felt Andy squeeze her hand and that simple act of comfort helped, more than he could know. "We had some really good years, and then we had some that weren't so great. We had some good with the bad. He stopped trying, and I think he felt that he'd reached that point where there was no coming back, and so that's where he stayed. It was comfortable to him. You have to hold on to the good now," her gaze shifted to Katie and softened. "Even if you remember very little of it."

"I guess I just never understood why," Katie said. "I hear all the stories, and everything I remember, it's like everything changed after _me_, and I never really thought I had anything to do with it. You made sure of that, but it just seems so… I don't know. _What_ happened? If it was so great, where did it stop being great?"

Sharon shifted in her seat. She had never really spoken openly about her marriage. There were only a select few who knew all of the details, and her children were certainly not among them. She guarded her secrets, her failures, and her hurts. She kept them close to her, dealt with them, and moved out. She tried, very hard not to dwell or look back. Sharon drew a slow breath now, and tried to consider what she could say, if anything, that would set her daughter's mind at ease. There was little, she knew that intellectually, but she ached for her baby girl, and all the questions that were left unanswered and hanging in the air for her. "We had big dreams," she explained in a soft tone. "Things that we wanted to do, places we were going to go. Life happened, honey, that's all. We all have weaknesses, and some of us are just better able at dealing with them than others. He was a good man, but he was deeply, deeply flawed. All of us are. It takes two people to break apart a marriage, Katie. I made my own mistakes. I didn't see that he was struggling until it was too late. My attention completely shifted after we had the two of you, and in a way it was supposed to. Perhaps I was harder on him than I should have been, less helpful. I stopped trying too, and I gave up, and that was it."

"You took him back twice," Ricky said, his eyes dark. He shook his head. "Mom you can't really say that you stopped trying. Even when you didn't want him around, you let him stay with you if he was in town."

"Three times," Sharon admitted quietly. Then she sighed. "We tried again, after Katie left home. He was back for maybe six months. Jack had a job offer in Sacramento. He wanted me to go with him. I honestly considered it. We put the house up for sale, and right before we were supposed to go… I thought to myself that I was about to walk away from everything. My friends, my home, the career that I'd built. In the end, I couldn't. We sold the house, I bought the Condo, and Jack left." She shrugged. "I wasn't the girl he married anymore. I couldn't believe in him the way I used to. I loved him, but it wasn't enough anymore. I wasn't _in_ love with him."

"You always said it was just too big for one person alone," Katie watched her mother. "You never said anything at all about Dad, or _any_ of that."

"It was what it was," She replied. "I wasn't ready to admit yet that I was done. The house was too big for one person alone," Sharon agreed. "That wasn't why I sold it. I wanted a house, and Jack got me a house. It was the last tie that we had, besides the two of you, that really defined who we were before. Once I made the decision not to follow him, I couldn't hang on to it. There were too many memories. Good and bad. I've never proclaimed to not be just as flawed, Katie."

"He hurt you," her daughter stated.

"I hurt him," Sharon replied, just as candidly. She tilted her head. "Don't dwell baby, not on what you can't change."

"Keep the good," Bill said quietly. "Learn from the bad. Look for tomorrow, but now is what is important."

A smile curved her lips. Katie's eyes sparkled, but there was a moist sheen covering them. "I've heard something like that before." She gazed toward Andy.

He winked at her and squeezed his wife's hand again. He reached for his phone, sitting on the table in front of him when it began to vibrate. Upon lifting it, he turned it toward Sharon so that she could see the display. "Excuse me." He stood up, but dropped a kiss to her cheek as he strode toward the inside of the house. He answered the phone as he walked through the house to the kitchen. "Yeah, Louie. Tell me you've got something?"

There was a beat of silence. "We have a suspect. We're going to need you to bring the Captain down so we can go over some things with her. Prints from the Los Feliz break-in bumped up against the break-in at the Hobbs residence. We got a hit on them in the system. It doesn't put him anywhere near DDA Michaels, or the hit and run with DDA Rios, but it gives us something. We can't even say that he was involved with the uh… well, you know." Provenza sighed. They were trying not to talk about it too much. It was bad enough as it was, without bringing one of their own into it. The autopsy report was bad enough. Sanchez had gone with him on that one. It was never easy, but even worse when the body on the table was someone you knew - even peripherally. Provenza remembered Jack from years ago and knew more than he probably wanted to about the man, his marriage, and the Captain. "We also have personal effects from the motel room Raydor was staying in," he said. "We'll need the Captain to id them."

"Did you get anything else there," Andy asked. "Prints, evidence, any—"

"Yeah," he cut him off. That was all he could really say about it. "We're waiting for the prints to come back, we're hoping on a match for our current suspect. That would tie him to all three locations, and put him near the body. The best we can really hope for is a confession. The DA's office is working on that… we uh, we got help on that one."

Andy's brows drew together on that one. Then he sighed. "Chief?"

"The DA met with the Mayor and Pope this morning. They decided a joint task force between us, them and the FBI would keep everyone's hands clean if she went a little _overboard_," Provenza sneered. Part of him, of them all, was still bitter about the way the department had hung her out to dry over the Stroh situation. She had gotten the bastard, hadn't she? It was always a pain in the ass how politics got in the way of good police work. "Officially, we are running the investigation. Chief Johnson is going to try and break our suspect, failing that, the DA will offer a deal to get him to confess. If he's the one."

"Yeah, if." Andy shook his head. "So, who the hell is it?"

"Ask the Captain if the name Stewart Barton means anything to her. The suspect is his brother. Guy by the name of Frank Barton, almost thirty, barely more than a kid. We think she handled a case involving the brother, Stewart. That Elliot kid is up here, he's got the files. Get the Captain down here and let's put this thing to bed, yeah?"

"From your lips." Andy ran a hand through his hair. "I'll get her. She's got family over, give us a little while. Couple of hours maybe? Or less."

"We're not going anywhere." Provenza hung up.

Andy took a moment and rolled the tension out of his shoulders. He drew a breath. After another minute, Andy nodded and walked back to the patio. Harder than carrying her grief with her children and those closest to her, would be bearing it in public. She would need to face it in front of people she worked with, those in front of whom she tried to maintain a certain persona. This would not be easy. He prepared himself for that as he stepped out. Her gaze lifted immediately, there was a certain expectancy in the air. They all looked at him, but it was for only Sharon that he had eyes now. "Captain, you're needed downtown. There's a possible suspect, but they have questions."

For just a moment she almost balked, but then the use of her title swept over her. It was calming. Her eyes reflected her gratitude, even as she straightened and stood. "You'll be okay here?" She asked of their guests. "We may be a few hours, or longer."

"Go," Alan told her. "We'll be fine. If it gets too late, we'll head back to the hotel. Otherwise, we've got eyes on this," he nodded at her kids. "Go be brilliant, scare people."

"Hm." She laid a hand on his shoulder, briefly, as she passed. "I will do my best. Thank you, Alan. With any luck, we'll see you all soon."

"Keep an eye on our sister," Alan said, watching as she joined her husband inside.

Andy nodded once. "I always do."

"Lieutenant," she brushed his hand as she walked past.

"Is it just me," Susan asked, "or is it weird as hell how they do that?" She looked around the table at the others. "It's like flipping a switch, they go from one to the other, and it's just damned odd."

From where he sat, Rusty shook his head. He had been silent, observing. He sat near Katie, patiently listening as the others shared. He couldn't offer anything, and he felt bad about that. But he could sit there and just be around in case he was needed. He was sort of taking his cues from Flynn. "You have no idea," he said.

"In the meantime," Lillian decided. "We should take care of dinner," she said to her sister-in-law. "The two of them are exhausted, and I know food is the last thing on anyone's minds, but it needs to be done." She lay a hand on her husband's arm. She studied him closely. "What do you think?"

He gazed back, eyes warm. "I think you're right, as usual." Bill took her hand and held it. "It's a nice day out," he decided. "Alan and I will grab some steaks, and we will make the best of it. Rusty will go with us," he nodded, making that the final word on it. "He needs to help us figure out what a vegetarian eats."

Rusty wavered for a moment, then he nodded. He figured he was okay with Sharon's family. "I'm good with that. He'll eat pretty much anything that isn't meat, and isn't on Sharon's list of banned foods since the whole almost heart attack thing." The kid smirked. "Well, he won't eat it _in front_ of her."

"Secret is safe with us." Bill rose with a low groan. His body was getting too old for sitting so long in hard places such as that. "Let's see if we can keep your mother happy and help a guy out at the same time."

"I'm willing to try." Rusty glanced down at Katie. "You okay?"

She arched a brow at him, but smiled. "I thought you weren't the Katie-sitter? Fine print, and all that."

"So I'll invoice her, it'll be alright," he joked.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Go with the Uncles. Do manly things. Bring home empty calories." Katie smirked. "Make her head really spin around."

"Oh," Rusty nodded. He smirked. "Do normal things. You got it!"

Ricky watched him go inside with the uncles. "You know, there's part of me that worries we've been a bad influence on him."

"Nah," Katie waved it off. "Mom had him for a whole two years before we ever came into the picture. It's pretty much on her. We still have so much left to teach him."

"Day at a time," Ricky cautioned. "The maternal unit frets you know."

"So I've heard," she chirped back automatically.

Lillian and Susan exchanged a look and rolled their eyes. These Cavanaghs, individually unique, but all just a like at their core. They had a feeling that these two would be just fine.


	7. Chapter 7

Say Goodnight, Not Goodbye - Chapter 7

by Kadi

Rated: T

* * *

Andy glanced at his wife, for probably the hundredth time since leaving the house. She had changed into a form fitting, button-down blouse and a blazer, wearing them with her jeans as easily as she would if it were a suit. She straightened her hair before they left the house, and it fell now, in its usual layers around her shoulders. She donned her badge and her rank like armor, and only the hand clasped in his, fingers holding tight as they rode the elevator up to the ninth floor of gave away the turmoil within. She looked as she always did, if a little more casual.

When the doors opened in front of them, Andy reached out and placed a hand against them to hold them in place. He looked at his wife, brows lifted slightly, inquisitively. She stood rooted to the spot for a moment, but her eyes lifted toward him and she nodded quietly. As she moved past him, she dropped his hand, but he saw the slight twitching at the corners of her mouth of an approving smile when his hand rested against the small of her back instead.

They made the turn that would bring them into the Murder Room via the side hall. It would have them entering with the Murder board to their back. Sharon drew a small breath as they entered the room, and for just a moment, they were both transported back. There was a group crowding around Tao's desk, made up of their team, Agent Howard, Assistant Chief Taylor and Sergeant Elliot of FID. At its center was former Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson, now the head of the Investigative unit for the DA's office. With the exception of Elliot, it might have been a moment out of any number of similar scenes from a few years ago. For just a few seconds, barely the time it took to draw breath and release it again, Sharon was the outsider again. She was waiting for acknowledgement and approval, and the derision that always seemed to flow her way from this group of people during that point in time.

She felt the hand press more solidly against her back and her head tilted a fraction in response. It wasn't a feeling that she could explain, but she knew that she was raw at present. There were a number of emotions running through her, and so she suppressed whatever irritation or insecurity she might feel at witnessing _her_ people speaking with _their_ chief. It was Buzz that noticed them first, and for just a moment he looked every bit the little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Sharon felt ashamed for what must have been displayed across her face, and as he bent down to get Lieutenant Provenza's attention, she carefully and quickly schooled her features into something much more appropriate and professional.

The Lieutenant turned toward them and walked forward. He was beat. The last couple of days, running on so little sleep was taking it's toll. He was starting to wonder if he was getting too old for these kinds of things. "Captain, we're going to try and make this quick. We don't want to keep you from the family longer than we need to." It was gruff and sarcastic, but that was what they'd come to expect from each other. His look belied the tone of his voice. "Flynn, you can stick around. Maybe make yourself useful. You know, do some actual work."

Andy rolled his eyes. "Thought I was a suspect?"

"What you are is a loafer," Provenza stated. "Here we all are, doing our jobs and yours, and you still look like crap. There is something profoundly wrong with you."

"Yeah, I work with you," Andy replied drily.

There was something oddly comforting about the familiar banter and snark. Sharon looked skyward and worked to suppress her smile. "Gentlemen." Her lips pursed. "Maybe we should get on with it, hm? Lieutenant, has Andy been cleared to return to work?"

"No." He scowled at them. "Of course not. The bum." He shook his finger at Flynn. "This is what happens when you don't follow the very good advice of your betters."

"Ah." Andy looked down at his wife. "We're idiots."

"Hm." She shrugged. "Oh well. Where would you like us," she asked the Lieutenant. "As it pertains to the questions you would like asked and not the fact that we're currently on paid leave pending the conclusion of the investigation into my ex-husband's death."

She said it so calmly, and yet, Louie could see the underlying tension. "Right." He sighed. "We thought the conference room. The personal items we collected at the motel are there, we just need you to confirm that they belong to the ex-husband."

"I suggest that we get to it then," Sharon said pointedly. She glanced at Andy, who nodded. She strode toward the conference room attached to her office, but not without nodding in acknowledgement at the looks she was getting from the rest of her team. They carried mixed expressions of concern and sympathy. At the sound of heels following them, Sharon drew a breath. Whatever good terms she and Brenda might be on now, almost friendly in fact, they were still quite different professionally.

Upon stepping into the conference room, Sharon stopped thinking of Brenda completely. Laid out on the table, in evidence bags, was what remained of the nomadic lifestyle Jackson Raydor had lived. Sharon approached the table slowly. She picked up one of the bags and turned it over. The plastic felt familiar and yet quite odd in her hands. She studied the contents, mail and other correspondence, picked up from Jack's Post Office box while he was in town.

"Captain." Brenda stood on the opposite side of the table. Her hands brushed the familiar contours of its edge. It was strange being back. Nostalgic and sad, but a bit removed as well. They were all as different as they were the same. She couldn't explain how it felt to step into a familiar role, but be on the outside looking in as well. "I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am that we're workin' together again under these circumstances. It's awful, just awful." She shook her head and smiled sadly.

"Thank you, Chief." Sharon shook her hair back and lifted her chin, just a fraction. She pushed her hands into the pockets of her blazer and tilted her head. "I appreciate that. You had questions?"

"Still straight to the point," Brenda nodded with a slight smile. "Alright then." She gestured to the contents on the table. "As you can see, we found Mister Raydor's last residence and we were able to collect several items. Prints lifted at the scene are still being analyzed."

"There are several photographs and other personal items," Provenza stated quietly. "All those things would indicate that these are Jackson Raydor's belongings, but we do need the official identification. You know the drill."

"I do." Sharon nodded. She glanced over the table. "Hm." She picked up a second bag. Inside was a familiar gold chain with a crucifix attached, a ring, and a watch. "They're his."

"You're sure about that, Captain," Brenda drawled.

Over her glasses, Sharon shot a rather bland look at the former Deputy Chief. "Yes, I am. I put this ring on his finger myself over thirty years ago, the cross was his father's, and that watch was a gift from me… when our son was born. So yes, Chief, I'm quite positive these things belonged to my ex-husband. Next question."

Behind her, Andy tilted his head. He shot a look at his partner. A single brow rose. He wanted them to get on with it. With his hands in his pockets, he leaned against the low cabinet on the outside wall. "Maybe you can fill us in on Stewart and Frank Barton and what they have to do with all of this," He nodded toward the items laid out on the table.

"The name isn't familiar," Sharon informed them. "Perhaps you can give me a hint."

"OIS about five years ago," Provenza told her. "The shooting officer was a Sergeant in Vice. Lucas—"

"Miller." Sharon nodded slowly. "Yes, I remember now. He shot a suspect during an undercover assignment. As I recall, the officer was cleared. The man he shot was armed and attempting to rob a convenience store. Sergeant Miller broke cover and stopped the robbery. He saved the life of the clerk and the young pregnant woman that was in the store at the time. How does this lead us back to my ex-husband's murder?"

Brenda folded her arms over her chest. She tilted her head while she observed. The Captain wasn't saying his name. He was referred to with pronouns. Coping mechanism, a protective gesture of sort. She was acknowledging him, without really doing so. "Stewart Barton is the suspect that was killed during that robbery. Frank Barton is his younger brother. It was his prints that we found at the two break-ins. The interesting thing about Mister Barton is, he did time at County a couple of years ago. He was recently released, but while he was there, he made the acquaintance of a recently convicted serial killer we are all so familiar and fond of."

Flynn's eyes darkened. He stood up and stepped forward. His hands fell, but he managed to keep himself from clenching them into fists. "So it was Stroh," he ground out. "You decided to spring this on us _now_. What the hell are you thinking? You bring us both down here, and Rusty is at home without—"

"Andy." Sharon reached back and laid a hand on his arm. She drew his gaze and waited until she felt him relax. Her hand stayed on his arm as her attention shifted. Her eyes blazed, every bit as indignant as he had been. "I suppose you have an explanation for that? You know how dangerous that man can be," she stated, gaze moving from Provenza to the former Chief. "Please tell me that there was something behind the decision to bring us here than blind arrogance and—"

"Okay, okay," Provenza lifted his hands. "Don't get all riled up. We get the point." She glared at him and he returned it. "Of course we wouldn't bring you down here if we thought, even for a second, that Rusty was in any kind of danger. Captain, really." He was mildly insulted, but he decided that he would let it go this time. She was dealing with a lot. He'd let her make it up to him later. "While Barton was in lockup, he had contact with Stroh. That man is, as you know, a master manipulator. What we believe is, in an effort to get back at those he believes responsible for his own incarceration, and perhaps an attempt at leveling his playing field a little bit… Stroh planted certain ideas in Frank Barton's head."

"We believe that he gave our suspect names," Brenda continued. "He played on the young man's grief over his brother's death at the hands of the LAPD and turned that grief toward anger and revenge. Of course, we have no direct proof. We just happen to know how that psychopath's mind works."

"What we were able to find out," Provenza continued for her, "is that they had a few people and areas in common while they were at County. Before Stroh went into confinement before the trial. We're hoping the connection will come out in the confession. Otherwise, it's just a lot of good theories and no substance."

"Right." Sharon nodded slowly. "Those names would have included specific members of the DA's office and myself. He'd have had no reason to include Rusty, since he wasn't involved in the OIS that my team investigated." She exhaled quietly and shot an apologetic look in the Lieutenant's direction. "Any research either of them did would have been limited, and as he was recently released, it was severely outdated."

"Yes," Brenda said. "What we think is that Frank Barton broke in to the apartment in Los Feliz, and upon realizing he wouldn't have access to you, he went after your ex-husband, not realizing that you were no longer married. There was evidence of a struggle at the motel."

"Hm." Sharon let go of Andy and walked slowly around the table. She lifted a bagged, framed photograph. It was a picture of herself, much younger, with a barely two year old Ricky in her lap. She was seated on the front step of their house, a day or two after they'd moved in if memory served. "Yes, I believe that. Jack might not have been much of a fighter when it came to certain aspects of his personal life, but he was always a bit of a scrapper in a fight."

"You can say that again," Andy snorted. He remembered tangling with him a time or two, back during both their days at the bars. They had tossed a few punches, then as such things went, became drinking buddies. His wife glanced up at and they shared a small smile.

"Sergeant Elliot from FID has brought up the files," Brenda said. "We've been over the details. We can tie Barton to Stroh, and his prints tie him to both break-ins. What we're waitin' for now are the prints from the motel to tie our suspect to that location as well."

"What about DDA Michaels," she asked. "Do you have nothing tying him to that crime as well?"

"So far, no." Brenda sighed. "We haven't found the Deputy DA's car yet, we think that could be the primary crime scene. There was nothing at the house indicatin' a struggle or a murder, and of course his office was clean as well. I think if I turn everything back around on Barton, I should be able to get him to confess to both murders. He's acting on a lot of rage right now. He's left his prints behind, so he's already makin' mistakes."

"Well then, Chief—" Sharon smiled, then corrected herself. "Brenda, I suppose that I should wish you luck. Do we have Frank Barton in custody?"

"Uniforms are bringing him in now," Provenza said. "The kid got picked up at his mother's house. He wasn't even bothering to hide." He shook his head. Some things about this business never changed. The arrogance of a suspect was one of them.

"Good." Sharon glanced at both of them before sliding her hands back into the pockets of her blazer. "Did you need anything else from us?"

"Maybe I could sit in on the interview?" Andy rocked forward onto the balls of his feet and smiled.

"No." Brenda rolled her eyes at him. "You know better than that, Lieutenant Flynn."

Andy shrugged. "Had to try."

"Lieutenant." Sanchez pushed open the door after knocking quietly. "Ma'am," He nodded at Sharon. "Frank Barton is here. Uniforms are bringing him up."

"Thank you, Julio." Provenza nodded. "Have him put in Interview 2, the Chief and I will take this one. The rest of you can watch from electronics."

"Sir." He nodded and withdrew.

"I suppose that would be our cue," Brenda said. "Lieutenant, I think it would be okay if the Captain and Lieutenant Flynn waited here, or in her office while we interview the suspect." Obviously they couldn't listen, but there was no reason they couldn't be on hand for the update once there was one.

"I think that's a good idea," Provenza nodded. "You two, try to stay out of trouble." He moved to the door, Brenda with him. "With any luck we'll have news soon."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Chief." Sharon nodded gratefully. "Lieutenant." She called him back, once Brenda was out the door. "Much of this will need to remain logged into evidence, but there are some personal items here that I would like returned to myself, once you close your investigation. I suppose you won't mind if I go ahead and mark those items now?"

He glanced at the table and nodded. "Go right ahead, Captain. Buzz has already documented all of it, and we have it properly logged. I'll have Sykes bring in a box so that you can keep those items separate of the others."

"Thank you," she said again. She gave him a look, full of meaning before averting her gaze again. She was appreciative of his care and discretion in this matter, even if she wasn't expressing it well.

"Captain." Provenza hesitated before leaving again. "Doctor Morales has been informed that you might wish to _speak_ with him. Julio will take you over there as soon as he's available, if you'd like."

Sharon nodded. She had considered that possibility. "Yes, I think I would," she said thickly. "Tell the Detective that I would appreciate his time, when he's available."

The Lieutenant nodded again, and this time when he slipped out of the conference room, they let him go.

Andy was once again leaning against the cabinet on the far side of the room. "You okay?" He was watching her closely.

"What is okay?" She glanced up at him and shrugged. "I'll be better when this is over." Sharon was slowly circling the table, inspecting items of note. One caught her eye and she lifted the evidence bag. "_Andy_." Her hands shook as she held it. "Look at this," she whispered. When he joined her, she held it out for him. It was a show program and a ticket stub, both framed. It was from the tour the ballet company had done. "He saw her dance." Jack had never picked up the tickets and passes that Katie left for him at Will Call in Las Vegas or Los Angeles, but when the company had moved through San Francisco weeks later, he was there.

He laid a hand against the back of her neck, beneath the silken curtain of her hair. His thumb rubbed the side of her neck, comfortingly. "We'll keep that for her. Look at this one." He reached out and picked up another, it was an article and a newspaper photo. This one of Ricky from a bust he'd made while with the San Francisco PD Narcotics unit. "He didn't know how to reach out, didn't mean he didn't care," Andy said quietly.

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded. Flawed and selfish though he might have been, Jack had loved in his own way. Sharon picked up another photo, this one of herself and Jack. "Our fifth anniversary. We were already in trouble, but neither of us realized it." In it, they were still smiling at one another. "God, it's hard to believe I was ever that young. So naive and idealistic. I can't believe he carried all this with him."

"People do what they can to hang on to what they have," Andy explained. "Even when they've lost it. Or they've walked away from it. Sharon…"

"I know." She looked up at him, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm okay." She inhaled deeply and shook her head. When Sykes appeared, carrying the box, Sharon thanked her quietly. The younger woman seemed to hover, as though she intended to say something, and then thought better of it and left. Sharon smiled. She was learning.

They spent the next half hour placing personal items in the box. Andy sighed. With the blinds open there was little he could do to comfort his wife, except remain close by. It was frustrating as hell sometimes, this separation they maintained between work and home. They were so clearly _not_ on duty at the moment, and yet, she needed that to get through the day. Afterward, they moved in to her office. Sharon flipped through files and messages waiting on her desk. There were several items waiting for her attention once she returned, none of which had anything to do with the current case. While she got to work, he dropped into a chair across from the desk and watched.

With her hair pulled over one shoulder, glasses perched on her nose, and the way she pursed her lips as she worked, it could have been any other day. Andy shook his head. "This would work better for me if you were in a skirt."

"Hm." Sharon arched a brow at him. She cast a look toward his desk and the inbox which was piling up. "You know, I don't believe there's any rule against you stepping out, briefly, to gather items off your desk. Then you could do as Lieutenant Provenza stated and make yourself useful."

"I had a feeling you were going to say that," he said drily. Andy pushed himself up. "A guy can't even fantasize in peace anymore." He heaved an exaggerated sigh, but did as he was told. He popped out of the office to the desk just outside and cleaned out the inbox. When he returned, Andy dropped them on her desk and reclaimed his chair. He pulled it close. "You know if I work on these, you're just going to have more to do right?"

"I do," She glanced up, a smile playing at her lips. "But you'll just have that much less to do when you come back, and it keeps you out of trouble."

"What? Trouble?" He sniffed. "Me? I don't believe it. I've turned over a new leaf, I haven't fought with anyone in Narcotics in days."

"Mmhm." Her gaze fell to her own work again. "I'm sure."

"It's been weeks since I pissed off Traffic," he pointed out. "I haven't been investigated by IA in years."

"Yes I know," Sharon chuckled. "You're behaving yourself because you've got no one down there to irritate anymore."

"Well, yeah, but you're missing the most important part," Andy pointed out. "Behaving myself."

"Get to work, Lieutenant." She flashed a small smile in his direction. His attempt at distraction was appreciated, and her mood lifted, marginally.

"Yes ma'am," He shook his head, but bent forward over the front of her desk and started sorting through the pile.

They both looked up, barely five minutes later, at the knock on her door. Lieutenant Provenza pushed the door open. "Captain."

She sat back in her seat and clasped her hands against the top of her desk. "Yes?" Her voice was almost hoarse with expectation. She drew a breath and arched a brow at him.

"Frank Barton has confessed to the murders of DDA Michaels and Jack Raydor in exchange for life in prison without parole. She's still got it."

"Hm." Sharon's head inclined. "It seems awfully easy. Are we sure that Frank Barton is our guy? Not, of course, that I'm in anyway discounting Ms. Johnson's considerable talent at getting others to confess their crimes."

"The kid folded," Provenza shrugged. "He had a beef with the people he believed were responsible for letting his brother's killer go free. All the Chief had to do was talk about the attempted robbery, and he went off. Spilled the whole thing. Including the Stroh angle. Of course, the psychopath is already on death row, so we don't really care about that now. He's not going to have a whole lot of opportunity to rub elbows with general population where he's at now. He's down in booking now. He'll go in front of a judge, they'll make it official," he waved a hand in front of him. "Another day at the office, with the obvious exception," he said, respectfully acknowledging the personal aspect of the case.

"I see." She nodded slowly. "Thank you, Lieutenant, for letting me know. I'll pass the word along. I know that the rest of the family will be grateful for your diligence."

"Yeah." He nodded slowly. It was a fine line they walked. She was his best friend's wife, and he was fond of Rusty. She was his captain, and most of the time they made a good show of barely tolerating each other. "Well, now that we have a confession, there's no reason for Sanchez to escort you over to see Doctor Morales. I'll call ahead, let him know you're coming."

"I'd appreciate that." She leaned back in her seat. "I think I'll wrap up a few more things here, and then Andy and I will get out of your hair." Sharon tilted her head at him. "Send them home, Lieutenant. As soon as they wrap their reports. They've earned a good rest. You might even throw in dinner. On me," she added. "Expense it. I'll get it covered, or I'll cover it myself."

"Captain," he took a step toward the desk. "You really don't—"

"No," she said. "I insist. This has been difficult for everyone, and I appreciate the care and discretion that you've all shown. There are a couple of hard days still to come, for me personally. But this is my way of showing just how much I appreciate all that you and the others have done. I know working this case short-handed wasn't easy, and this isn't the first time that my personal life has affected all of you." Her jaw clenched when her voice hitched. She took a moment to exhale quietly and slowly. "So please, do as I ask, Lieutenant."

He exchanged a look with his partner. Provenza nodded. "Yes Captain. Just this once. Don't go getting complacent on me," he shook a finger at her. "Just because I choose to agree this time doesn't mean you should get comfortable."

"Understood." She nodded. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Good." He turned. "Now get out of here. Flynn is looking entirely too pleased with himself. It's bothering me."

"Soon," she promised with a smile.

"Yeah," Andy heaved a sigh. "She's going to make me finish all this first."

"As well she should," Provenza decided. He let himself back out of the office. He nodded to the others as they filtered back into the murder room. He glanced back through the open blinds, into the office. Flynn was gesturing wildly and the Captain was wearing the _almost smile_ she got sometimes when she was indulging him. Provenza sighed. She was in good hands. "Everything is fine," he said aloud to the others. "Let's wrap it up people, and get out of here." They had a funeral to get ready for. Hard days ahead indeed.

Andy moved through his work a little more slowly, it was a result of keeping one eye on Sharon. She was stalling, he knew. What came next was necessary, if hardly bearable. Outside, the Murder Room was slowly clearing out. Part of him wondered if that was what she was waiting for, but realized he knew otherwise. Finally, he stopped and stood up. "It's not going to be any easier in another hour. We should go, Sharon. The kids are waiting." It might have been a little low, but he knew it would ground her, provoke her into action.

Her pen stopped and she looked up slowly. She studied him for a moment. "I know you're right." Sharon dropped the pen and leaned back. "I just don't want to."

"I know." He moved around the desk and held out his hand. "You can do this, you don't run away."

She snorted quietly. "I wish I believed that. The thing is, I do. I have. Jack may have walked out on me, but I've run from him a number of times. Out of fear, hurt, or self preservation, whatever you like to call it. He was always my weakness."

"You loved him," he said simply. When she lay her hand in his he drew her up. "It's not a weakness. It's pretty normal." Andy would have liked to hold her, he squeezed her hand instead.

"You're pretty spectacular," She said softly. "You know that, don't you?"

"I'm just a guy," he shrugged. "Who loves a girl."

Sharon smiled. "She loves you too."

"Yeah," Andy smiled. "I know." He tugged on her hand and pulled her with him. They left the office, and walked together away from the murder room.

The morgue was just as it always was. Too cold, too dark, and entirely too quiet. Doctor Morales was waiting for them when they arrived. "Doctor, thank you for waiting, I'm sorry we took so long," Sharon said when they joined him.

"It's no problem," he assured her. "I didn't mind. Although this is the part where I tell you that we don't really have to do this. Official identification was made. Lieutenant Provenza took care of that, he was familiar with the vic—uh—well, you know." He almost winced at his slip. "I can take care of the release to the funeral home, I just need a name, and consider it done."

"I appreciate that, Doctor." Sharon smiled gratefully. "I'll make sure that you get that information. I have to do this, however. I'm afraid it's necessary, for me," she added quietly.

Morales glanced at Flynn before he nodded. "Very well," he stepped back. He still wore his scrubs and surgical cap. "I guess you know the drill, so I'll spare you the spiel."

"Thank you." She looked up at her husband when he squeezed her hand. "Do you mind waiting?" It was something she really needed to do alone.

His brows drew together. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she nodded. "As long as you don't mind."

"Of course not." While Morales' back was turned, he pulled her to him. "I'll be right here." He cupped her face for a moment and dropped a kiss to her lips. "Okay?"

"Hm." She nodded. "Thank you." Sharon reached up and curled her hands around his wrists. She held on for a moment, and then she pulled away. She followed the doctor through the double doors.

"I'll be through there," He said quietly, and moved into the small room on the other side of the autopsy chamber.

Left alone, Sharon stood transfixed to the spot. The body had been prepared for the viewing, in so much as the Coroner's office ever prepared them. She suspected that Doctor Morales had gone the extra mile, as the body was draped carefully. The suture lines from the autopsy were carefully covered, and he had been cleaned up. Still, the smell of death and devastation still hung in the room.

Sharon's jaw clenched and she forced herself to take a step forward, and then another. He looked different, but then most people did in death. The warmth was long gone, with it the natural charm that he always exuded in spades, as if it could cover up his shortcomings. Jack had his defense mechanisms, as much as any of them did.

At her sides, her hands clenched. Moisture clouded her vision and she looked up while she blinked it away. Sharon exhaled slowly through her mouth. Then she closed her eyes and tilted her head. She took a moment before she looked down at him again. Her hands shook when she lifted them. One lay against the cool metal of the table. The other reached up and brushed the hair away from his forehead. Always so unruly. The once sandy colored locks were now peppered through with gray, especially at the temples. She hummed quietly, and her trembling lips pursed. "What were you thinking, fighting back at your age?"

Her gaze swept over him and she exhaled again. The tears were beyond her ability to stop. "God, Jack. What did we do." She loved Andy, without a doubt, with everything that she had. She couldn't imagine a day without him, and wouldn't give him back. But she had regrets, so many regrets about the past. "They're taking it pretty hard, which is expected. Harder still I think because there's still so much they don't understand, and I don't know how I'm supposed to—" She cut herself off and shook her head. She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes again. Sharon's jaw clenched. She sniffed quietly, but it seemed so loud in the silent room. She reached up and swept away the tears, then shook her hair back. "Okay. I can't fix it this time, so…" She braced both her hands against the table shook her head quietly. "God." It was too much, simply more than she thought she was capable to bear. "I loved you, that I know. I guess it just wasn't enough. I never wanted _this_."

She hummed again and drew a deep breath, then almost regretted it. Sharon let it out quickly. She cleared her throat and swept her hand over her face again. She moved around the table, to his left side and folded the sheet back to reveal his hand. His ring she would see that he was buried with, the watch would go to Ricky, and the cross she would return to his brother. The framed program and ticket stub would be more than enough for Katie, she knew. Sharon reached into her pocket and withdrew the rings she had kept, even after the divorce. The funeral home would remove them, but it would be temporary. They would replace them, with the other, for burial. She slipped the pair of them onto his pinky. They barely made it halfway before they would budge. It was enough. "Goodbye Jack," she whispered. The backs of her fingers brushed his face, and then she walked quickly away.

When she pushed through the door, Andy was waiting. He was leaning against the opposite wall. He looked up when she appeared. Sharon moved into his waiting arms and held on tightly when they closed around her. She pressed her face against his neck. He didn't question, he didn't comment, he simply held on. It was exactly what she needed. Somehow, he always knew. No, she wouldn't give him back. There was much that she would change if she could. Things she would go back and correct. _This_ she would keep. Some things weren't meant to be, maybe others were. If that was the case, she would cling to hers. For just as long as she was allowed.


	8. Chapter 8

Say Goodnight, Not Goodbye - Chapter 8

by Kadi

Rated: T

* * *

The pews at Saint Ann's Cathedral had filled quickly. Most of them members of the very extended Cavanagh clan. Sharon's parents were in the pew behind her, intermixed with Bill and Lillian's children. The others were filled with Jack's friends and acquaintances. Some she knew, others she did not. Then there were her friends, people who had only known Jack briefly through her. They had come to show their support. Gavin was across the aisle, and surprisingly, Emma Rios was beside him. Sharon never would have expected that, and even more, that the pair of them were actually getting along. They rather liked butting heads, she supposed it was much like herself and Lieutenant Provenza.

Sharon knew that she shouldn't be surprised, but her team was a few rows back. They had filed in together. Many of the flowers filling the front of the Cathedral had come from them, and she was more touched than they could know. She sat between her children, Katie on her left, and Ricky on her right. Bill was on his other side, along with his wife. Sharon glanced over Katie's head and caught Andy's eye. The look they shared was brief, but it was all she needed to endure the last few minutes of the service.

Her arm was wrapped around her daughter's shoulders, while her son held her other hand. Katie had a tight grip on Andy's hand, but like her mother, she sat quietly and more or less calmly through the service. Their moist, red eyes the only outward sign of grief. Around Katie's neck there was the cross that her father had worn. Bill had given it to her. Sharon's thumb swept upward along her son's hand and brushed the familiar band of her ex-husband's watch.

These things from their father, seemingly so simple, had meant so much to both of them. Then there were the pictures, news clippings, and other items they'd found in Jack's belongings. Katie was utterly floored at the knowledge that her father had seen her dance, and confused that he'd never told her. She had spoken to Andy at length about that, about the fear one felt at knowing how they'd wronged those they loved, and how hard it was to make that trip back from the darkness.

It had the power to further hurt them, but her children seemed more at peace with knowing that their father had cared, but was simply unable to express it.

Sharon shifted her gaze just slightly, discreetly, to Rusty on Andy's other side. Her boy had been sticking very close to him throughout all of this. She was glad of that, they had grown closer over the course of the last year.

As the service drew to an end, she felt Ricky release her hand. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek before standing. He was joined by his Raydor cousins, Joey, Tommy, and Adam, Bill's sons. When Rusty joined him, she smiled a little proudly at how far he'd come. She knew that Ricky was going to ask him, she never expected that he would agree. Even a year ago he would have shied away. From behind them her nephew Steven joined them. He and Ricky had always been particularly close. Sharon's head tilted curiously when, as brothers, Rusty and Ricky took their place at the front. Her jaw clenched. It wasn't Jack that her boy was there for, it was Ricky. Sharon felt a hand brush her leg and looked at her daughter. Katie smiled sadly back at her, understanding.

The boys looked at one another and nodded, then glanced at the cousins behind them. As one the six of them lifted. They moved slowly down the aisle, seeming to bear the weight easily. When they'd made it halfway down the length of the cathedral, Sharon and Katie stood. She kept an arm wrapped around her daughter, but Andy joined her, taking her hand. She felt Bill and his wife fall instep behind them. Their daughter, Victoria, was with her Cavanagh cousins, Alan and Susan's daughters.

They followed along at a sedate pace and watched as the boys moved outside and down the front steps. At the street below they carefully loaded the mahogany casket into the waiting car.

After the funeral and the burial they drove north to Summerland. Sharon's parents were hosting the wake. She had protested that, but they insisted. They wouldn't allow her or Bill to hear of anything else. No one seemed to really mind the drive. The coast was beautiful this time of year, peaceful. It was the sort of thing that Rusty figured people needed right now.

They drove up in a couple of vehicles. He and Katie had ridden with Sharon and Andy, but Nicole and her husband were with Ricky, along with Tony. Andy's kids had surprised him by showing up, he hadn't expected them. The five of them rallied together, and Rusty supposed that they had an odd sort of relationship from where the others were standing. They weren't really related. There was Nicole and Tony on Andy's side, and then Ricky and Katie on Sharon's side. He supposed he was one of them too, except that he was a bit of a straggler. Late to the party, but Sharon was never letting him go. Not that he wanted her to. Legally, even if he was an adult, he was hers now. She adopted him before he turned eighteen, and technically his name had changed. It was Raydor too, and only because that was _her_ name when she adopted him. He was still using Beck; it was what he knew. In his mind, that was who he was.

Rusty walked along the beach, stopping just shy of where the water flowed inward. It was a pretty day, which seemed to be at odds with the purpose of it, the funeral and everything. He left his shoes behind, near the back step of the beach house and had rolled the cuffs of his dress pants up. Beneath his feet the sand was just slightly cool. He curled his toes in it and smiled a bit. He could understand how this could be Katie's favorite place. It was beautiful out here with the beach, the ocean and the dunes. Rusty sat down in the sand, not caring that it was slightly damp or what it would do to his clothes, and turned his face toward the sun.

He was wondering why days like that, moments like that even, made people reflect on their own lives. That was exactly what he was doing. He was thinking about everything in his life that had changed. His _sister_ would never know what kind of life she might have had with her dad in it, but in a way, she no longer had to wonder. She didn't have to question where he was, what he was doing, was he even thinking about her? Rusty almost envied that. _Almost_. He didn't know how to voice that, not without sounding like a truly horrible person, after all, he didn't want Jack to die. Rusty figured he would just keep it to himself, along with a lot of other things he thought about sometimes.

There were some thoughts, however, which were bursting to get out. Things that he had been thinking about for a little while now. Thoughts he wasn't sure that he should share, or should even be thinking about. Something that Sharon said to him kept coming back at odd moments, especially when her family was around. When they found his biological dad, Daniel Dunn, Sharon said that he might come with biological grandparents, aunts, and uncles... Of course, he didn't. Or maybe he did. Rusty didn't really care. Daniel Dunn came with a lot of baggage that Rusty just didn't need, he had enough as it was. The guy was an absolute jerk, and he knew that he was better off without him. He didn't regret not having Daniel Dunn in his life, not at all. It was just the statement which kept repeating itself in his head. Grandparents, aunts, uncles... He never had any of those things, not until Sharon.

Now he was virtually surrounded. Everywhere he turned there was a Cavanagh, or a Raydor, or even a Flynn. He was the only Beck. He felt a little odd sometimes. Like the third wheel, although no one tried to make him feel that way. Everyone went out of their way to include him, and now... well, they just treated him like he always belonged to them. Which was kind of weird, but kind of nice at the same time. Every time he called Sharon's father _Mr. Cavanagh_ he got that look, the one he knew so well, and it was pretty obvious where Sharon learned it. He was told in no uncertain terms that if he couldn't, wouldn't, or didn't feel comfortable calling him some derivative of _Grandpa_ that he could call him Pat. Rusty was still trying to wrap his head around that one.

Then there were the uncles. Rusty was pretty sure that he really kind of liked them. He had gone to the store that first evening after Jack died with Alan and Bill, and it became very apparent as they walked through the market that neither Sharon or her kids had shared with anyone outside of their close-knit immediate family anything about him. He was grateful for that. It was obvious because they had passed a girl, and Rusty had to admit that she was kind of cute. She had smiled at him, and Alan had slapped him on the shoulder and tried to get him to go back and get her number. When he wouldn't, they assumed he was shy. Bill offered to get it for him, but said that would just look entirely too odd, so he was better served getting it for himself. Unless he didn't think she was cute, in which case they'd find him another girl.

Rusty thought he must have started blushing or something equally humiliating at that point, since Alan decided they'd better leave him alone or Sharon would shoot them. Rusty had quietly admitted at that point that he didn't actually like _girls_. He wasn't actually in the market for anyone, but if he were, it wouldn't be a girl. At least, he was pretty sure it wouldn't be. They had looked at him for what felt like a long time, and he wondered if maybe there was a _reason_ that no one had actually talked about him outside the LA based family. Then something really cool happened. Bill slapped him on the shoulder and said they'd find him a guy instead. Turned out, he wasn't the only one. Adam, Bill's youngest son was gay too. Rusty didn't think he could explain just how relieved he was to have it out there, and for it to be okay.

Not that he supposed it mattered. Or maybe it did. He didn't really know. He was relieved, that he _did_ know. Sharon didn't care. Neither did Andy or the other four kids. So maybe he had absolutely nothing to worry about. It was a little different, this having a family thing. It was a little weird, and maybe not so bad. He was starting to think that maybe he really kind of liked it.

Movement in the sand drew his attention and he glanced over when someone sat down beside him. He watched Sharon arrange the skirt of her dress around her legs as she got comfortable, knees bent and arms wrapped loosely around them. She stared out toward the water. Rusty tried not to be too obvious about watching her, but she always knew everything anyway. Finally he tilted his head and glanced her way. "Are you okay?"

She hummed quietly and shrugged. Then she looked at him. Her lips curved into a smile. "Better now, I think. It's a process, Rusty. I'm not sure that anyone is ever completely okay after a loss like that, but it gets easier and you move on."

Rusty felt mildly surprised for a moment upon the realization that struck him. It wasn't all about her kids. "You still loved him." He hadn't meant to say it out loud, but it was out there now and he cringed inwardly. He was really trying to work on that whole mouth and filter thing, especially with Sharon. Still, it just took him by such surprise. He thought that she loved Andy. Seriously, he had been watching the two of them together for just over a year now, and if that wasn't love than he was seriously confused on the whole concept. She _did_ love him, of that Rusty was pretty certain. If she didn't, then she was confused. Oh god, he thought. Was this going to be the kind of conversation where _she_ was confused and _he_ was not? Rusty didn't know that he was prepared for that. He didn't know that he would _ever_ be prepared for that. That might be a Sharon and Flynn kind of conversation. Let him deal with her confusion. Yep, that was a perfect idea. Rusty thought he might just suggest it.

Because it was obvious that he let it slip out, Sharon smiled again. She would have answered anyway. "I did, I do." Her head inclined and her lips pursed. "Rusty people cannot turn their emotions on and off like a switch, at least emotionally healthy people cannot. There are people who will come and go in your life, and they will be important to you. Some of them you will love, and some of them you won't. They'll shape who you are and who you will become. You'll remember them, long after they're gone, and something of them will remain with you." She glanced away, eyes soft. "Jack was the first boy that I ever loved. The first one that I ever really let into my heart. We had some good years together, and then some not so good years. We had children together, and we weren't on very good terms this last year, not since the divorce. That was to be expected. He was still family. So yes, I loved him. Just not in the same way that I once did."

He watched her closely. Rusty wasn't used to her opening up like this, at least not entirely on this level. There was still a lesson in there for him, and that was so completely Sharon that he supposed he should be expecting it. Rusty smiled. "I understand." He did. It was like his mom. He was so very angry with her, and hurt, and he would likely never trust her again... but he still loved her. He worried about where she was, what she was doing, and if she was okay. Was there someway that he could help her? Would she _let_ him help her?

When he looked away, seemingly lost in thought, it was Sharon's turn to tilt her head speculatively. "What about you, Rusty. Are you doing okay? It was a pretty rough week. I'm sorry if I haven't been-"

"What?" His eyes widened. "Seriously? You're worried about _me_ right now? Are you kidding? Sharon, really, I am like, completely okay. You don't have to worry about me. Not anymore."

She smiled warmly at him, affection lighting up her face. "Rusty, I'm always going to worry about you. You're my son." She tried to refrain from actually labeling it, at least with Rusty. It was enough, most of the time, that they knew.

He ducked his head, as he usually did when she called him that. It wasn't that it made him uncomfortable, at least not anymore, but he always felt sort of… giddy inside. Someone was claiming him. Someone wanted _him_. Not just someone. Sharon. He glanced up at her, a half smile playing at his lips. "Whether I like it or not?"

Laughter bubbled out of her. She nodded slowly. In her amusement, her eyes crinkled at the corners. "Whether you like it or not," she replied. She nudged his shoulder with hers before she leaned back onto her elbows in the sand. She stretched her legs out in front of her and sighed. "You look like you were thinking about something awfully hard, sitting out here all by yourself."

It was her way of questioning him, without _really_ questioning him. Rusty shook his head. He grinned. Yep, Sharon _always_ knew. "Do you have, like, radar? It goes off when something is up, and you can like, zone in on it point-two seconds. Rusty's quiet, so something _must_ be wrong."

"Or it's Monday." She crossed her feet at the ankles and wriggled her bare toes. The sand was cool and a little damp but it felt good. "Rusty, I know things haven't exactly gone very well lately, but if you need to talk about it, I'm always here."

"Oh my god, you two really are like the same person." Rusty shook his head at her. "Katie said pretty much the same thing to me not too long ago. Sharon, seriously, everything is okay. I promise, I'm not upset. I'm, you know, worried, but I sort of worry about people too." He tilted his head at her and grinned. "Even you."

"Hm." Her lips pursed. "It has been a difficult few days, though. That doesn't mean that I'm not available for you to speak to."

"I know that." Rusty shrugged at her. "I _know_," he said, when she didn't look as though she believed him. "I'm just not sure that I'm ready to talk about it. If I say it out loud…" He trailed off and shook his head. "Also, it's not the kind of thing I should talk to you about. I think. I mean, I don't know." Rusty sighed. "There's a lot in my head right now." When she only hummed and looked toward the sky, Rusty wrapped his arms around his knees and leaned forward against them. "I was thinking about my mom," he admitted. "And my dad. You know, the unfortunate people that created me and couldn't bother to actually stick around. I was thinking about Katie and how I almost envy her, at least now she knows. She doesn't have to wonder."

"Oh Rusty." Sharon sat up with a soft sigh. She lay a hand against his back and rubbed gently. "I'm sorry, honey."

"Yeah, it sucks." Rusty shrugged. "I was just… you know, a couple of years ago I hardly had any family to speak of. Then you came along and now I'm practically surrounded. There's family coming out of my ears, and that's not a bad thing, really. I like your family, a lot, and okay, now they're my family too," he added while rolling his eyes. "I'm basically an orphan, but I'm not." He looked over at her. "I told you, there's a lot in my head right now."

"It's not nearly as frightening as my head tends to be," she said with a smile. "Those are normal things for you to be thinking about. I don't think there's anything wrong with that, honey. Is that what you're worried about?"

"No," he said. "Not really. I'm just sort of bouncing an idea around in there. I'm not sure it's feasible, or if it should really happen." Rusty shrugged. "You have your kids, and Flynn has his. Then there's me." He gave her a meaningful look. "I'm yours, but that's not all of it, not really."

Sharon blinked at him. She was trying to follow his logic. Her brow rose and she gazed at him anew. "Oh." She blinked again. "_Oh_." Sharon sat a little straighter. "I see. Well, that is… hm."

"Exactly." Rusty exhaled heavily. "I warned you there was a lot in there right now," he indicated his head. "I think the idea has been there for a while, but this last week it really starting cranking a wheel. I mean, come on. Who is always after me to take the garbage out, and always threatening to hide my car keys if I don't start learning to check the oil in my car regularly. Oh, let's not forget that week I drove around with too little air in my tire. I thought he was going to blow a gasket. Since we moved in with him, I learned how to change a tire, and light a grill, and…" Rusty sighed. "I don't know. A lot of things. What did I learn from Daniel Dunn?"

Sharon said nothing. Instead she drew her knees up again and curled her arms around her legs. She tilted her head at him and smiled patiently. This was not a decision that she could really weigh in on. It was something that Rusty had to arrive at for himself. "I don't suppose you learned very much," she said, as neutrally as she could. There was part of her that still wanted to shoot that man in the head.

"Right, so… you know." Rusty cast an earnest look at her. "Don't you? Know, I mean. Am I nuts?"

"No, Rusty." Sharon chuckled. "Not at all. I have a fairly good idea where you're going with this, but I can't do it for you. I can say that, personally, I would love it. Aside from that, this decision is yours. I don't think that it's crazy at all. I think that it's very normal to want to… become part of your environment in as normal a way possible."

"So," he drew out the syllable. "Then this is me, being all normal. Who'd have thought?" When she only rolled her eyes and smiled at him, Rusty grinned back. "I'll figure it out."

"I know you will," she said, and meant it. "Whatever you decide, Rusty, I'm still here. That doesn't change."

"I know." He slanted a playful look at her. "You're like a bad habit, Sharon. I just can't get rid of you. I keep trying, and _trying_…" He smirked when she nudged him again. "You're getting sand all over your dress, do you want to go back?" He gestured toward the house and the crowd of people outside. People were drinking, eating, talking and some were laughing. He supposed it was typical for a wake, he'd never been to one before.

"Hmm." Her lips pursed and she thought about it. "Not just yet. I think I'm okay here and…" She brushed sand off the skirt of her dress. "It will wash." Sharon leaned back again and got comfortable on her elbows. "It was feeling a little crowded."

"It was kind of cool of everyone from the team to show up, yeah?" He tilted his head at her, not sure if she was really comfortable with that or not. Sharon could be a little odd sometimes about her home life bumping up against her work life.

"It really was," She smiled softly. "It was very appreciated. I think I just needed a few moments to myself before I had to go back and… well, you know." She rolled her eyes and shrugged. She felt caught in some odd place between Captain and Sharon, and it was awkward trying to be one or the other where her family was concerned. Still, she appreciated that her team was showing their support. Some of them had known Jack, and like him or not, it was very kind of them.

Rusty leaned back beside her. "Would you feel better if I left?" He knew that if she really wanted to be alone she wouldn't have sought him out, but he thought it needed asking anyway.

"Nope." She glanced at him, briefly, before closing her eyes and turning her face toward the sun. "As long as you don't mind staying, I never mind having you around."

He smiled. That was true. Although he couldn't stop himself from asking, "so if we decided to not move out—"

"Don't push your luck," she drawled.

There was a smile playing at her lips and Rusty laughed. "Right. This is me, not pushing." They were hardly being pushed out the door. He knew that Sharon was as anxious about it as he was, but it had to happen sometime. He couldn't live with her forever. Sooner or later, kids left home. But they visited, _a lot_. Plus, he'd have laundry. He'd make sure he had laundry.

He felt movement in the sand beside him a few minutes later and opened his eyes. Katie dropped down to sit with them, and he noticed Ricky doing the same on his mother's other side. They said nothing, just got comfortable in the sand and leaned back, enjoying the quiet and the sunshine. When Beauty bounded over, a shoe in her mouth, Katie groaned.

Ricky craned his head around his mother to see what the problem was. He snickered. "Not a good choice pup."

"Oh Katie, _really_." Sharon reached over to snatch it away from both of them. So many choices to make at a gathering where most people were enjoying the sand on their bare feet and the dog had to choose one of _hers_.

"I'm sorry!" Katie flung her arms around the animal's neck and hugged her. "Mommy, please don't shoot my puppy." She fluttered her lashes and gave an exaggerated pout.

She heaved a sigh. "No, I think I'm going to go and shoot the person who got her for you. I swear, that man trained her to do this." Sharon stood up and brushed the sand off her dress. With the shoe in hand she started stalking toward the house. "Flynn!"

Katie shared a look with her brother. Life was ever changing and fleeting. They knew that from experience. The last year had only reinforced it. This past week provided a lesson in loss. It reminded them that people came and went, and some were lost forever. For them there had always remained only a single constant, and yet, even that continued presence had no guarantees.

There would come a day, far into the future if fate and luck were on their side, when they would have to face this life without the warmth and security of knowing that their mother was always there. When others failed them, they could always fall back knowing that she would be there. They drew Rusty into the gaze, and he tilted his head at them. A small smile played at his lips. A day would come when they would only have each other.

It was not today.

Ricky pressed his lips together and shook his head. He jerked his head toward their mother, and then rolled his eyes at his siblings. The three of them began laughing.

"If we get that shoe away from her," Katie suggested. "There's no evidence."

"And on the upside she can't beat him with it," Rusty suggested.

Ricky arched a brow when they looked at him. "You know she'll get _us_ for that."

"Might as well go down together," Katie suggested.

The elder two turned their gazes on Rusty. He shook his head, but grinned. He wavered for a moment before he shrugged. "Gavin is here. He'll get us out of it."

Ricky moved first. He stood up and started after his mother, his long legged stride quickly eating up the sand as he jogged toward her. Rusty and Katie were behind him. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted, he swung her around. Rusty grabbed the shoe and tossed it to Katie who ran off with it, Beauty yipping and dancing around her feet.

A very un_Captain-_like squeal, which might have been close to a shriek was drawn out of her as she was swept around by her eldest.

It was just a brief moment in time. The sun would set and it would rise again. For the time being, the warmth of the day was chasing away the shadows of grief they'd been living with for the past week. People were born, they lived, and then they died. It never ended, that cycle of life. It couldn't be beaten, or forgotten. It simply was.

For right now, there was laughter as the three siblings danced across the sand and the beach. One of them was new, and probably unlikely, but one of them just the same. They indulged in the impromptu game of _keep away_, knowing that one or all of them would likely end up being taken down and eating dirt at some point. Their mother was not a woman to be trifled with, and yet, here they were. Ricky's long legs and Rusty's thin form made them fast on their feet. Katie had a dancer's grace and instinct, so that even with the weaker, still healing leg she managed to stay just out of reach.

Nicole and Tony wandered down to see what all of the commotion was about and found their step siblings in a bit of trouble. By joining, they decided they were really only saving them from themselves.

"Sorry little dancing queen," Tony caught Katie and lifted her easily. "She's a Flynn now. We have to protect the family honor. Otherwise known as staying on the Evil Stepmother's good side. Self preservation. It's a trait we can teach you." With his stepsister draped easily over his shoulder, he joined the others.

Nicole had grown up with a brother that was an absolute pest. She poked Ricky's side, just below his ribs, and in just the right way that he dropped his mother to her feet. She put her hands up when he whirled on her. "I come with a husband and two kids. Take me on, I dare you." Her eyes widened when he started toward her and she ran along the beach, laughing.

Rusty realized, almost at once, that he was left holding the shoe. Literally. Katie had tossed it to him. He dangled it in front of him, single finger hooked beneath the strap. "I am willing to negotiate for its safe return. What sort of deal are you willing to make, Captain."

Her eyes narrowed. There was a devious gleam lighting up their green depths. "Hmm… perhaps you should just hand it over and find out, Mr. Beck."

"Ah, yes… we're going that route." He tilted his head. "In the interest of keeping everything legitimate and following all the _rules_. Since I know just how much you love them. I feel that I should point out that I have been addressed in a completely inappropri—oh crap!" He took off when she lunged toward him, because really, Sharon wasn't in the mood to negotiate.

Buzz walked out toward the crest of the beach, where it dipped low toward the water. From the house they could only barely make out what the group was up to, but this vantage point gave them a clear view. "Is that safe?"

Beside him, Flynn had his hands tucked into his pockets. "Strictly speaking, probably not." He shook his head, a small, crooked grin tugged one corner of his mouth upward.

"It looks like Rusty is in trouble," Buzz stated. "_Again_."

"Yep." He slanted a look at him. "The kid's quick on his feet. She might be a little faster. He'll never come between Sharon and her shoes again, that's for sure."

"Technically speaking, I believe she was coming after you before they chose to intervene," Buzz smirked.

"Contrary to popular belief," Andy sighed. "I did _not_ train the dog to chew her shoes. It's damned peculiar, she just goes after the damned things. It's like she's got shoe-dar for Sharon's shoes. I swear, it's one of the damnedest things I've ever seen. She's even figured out how to nose open the closet!"

"You might have a difficult time convincing the captain of that," Buzz pointed out with a small smile.

"Tell me about it." He sighed. "I've been trying, and she ain't buyin' it." He continued to watch the chase that was going on just down the beach, near the water. Rusty zigged when he probably should have zagged and almost got caught. He dodged easily enough. Flynn would hand it to the boy, he had good reflexes. Not far away, he noticed that Ricky had gotten ahold of Nicole and had her tossed over his shoulder. He didn't think that he would ever, fully, be able to comprehend just how lucky he was. Had the choices that he made been just a little different, it could have been his kids burying him this afternoon. Instead, here he stood, surrounded by Sharon's family and friends, many of them mutual. They had her kids and his, and that in itself was truly amazing.

His eyes tracked Rusty. The boy was trying to turn the tables on her, and it wasn't going to work. Andy had to give him points for trying. He also thought that maybe, just maybe, they had a little case of _theirs_. That was a situation that was still evolving. The kid was more at ease with the whole family setting, but he wondered if Rusty would ever truly be ready to be part of them. He had his own hurts, and no one could fault the kid for the walls that he still had in place. It was, as they said, a work in progress.

Andy knew that his kids were here as much for Sharon as they were for Ricky and Katie. They were both still close to their mother and that side of the family, but he still felt giddy at their acceptance of him and this new family unit. They had worried at blending this family that their kids wouldn't like each other. How odd those thoughts seemed now, a year later.

He glanced at the man beside him and suppressed a sigh. That was another odd change. Sharon told him not to worry about it. To let it be. They were just _friends_. Andy didn't know that he really believed that. Sharon seemed to. Above all else that might be going on with the younger man and her daughter, she believed that they were friends. She told him that she saw a bit of herself and Gavin in the pair. She didn't know _what_ they actually were, and she wasn't asking. It was none of their business. The situation would sort or bare itself out in time.

His attention returned to his wife and the boy that was so much a part of her heart that she would walk through fire, and had almost died for him. It was no wonder that they had bonded. They had some similar hurts. Both abandoned by people meant to love them. Andy didn't have to ask himself if the kid knew how lucky he was. Rusty was just as devoted to her, on display now as he put himself on the line with acts of supreme shoe-annoyance as the children sought to find something lighter, something joyful in a day full of sadness.

"Wise move," Andy decided, when Rusty abandoned the shoe in exchange for fleeing. "Or not." He sighed. He watched his wife shake it at the boy, although he couldn't hear what she said. Now she was marching toward him again. "Damn."

"Right." Buzz decided it was his cue to join Julio and Amy. "Good luck, Lieutenant."

"Yeah, thanks a lot," he muttered.

As he left, Buzz chuckled to himself as he heard the only slightly aggrieved, "Now Sharon..."

Behind them Ricky and Tony had devolved into negotiating for the return of their own respective sisters, as each of the young men now held one of them _hostage_.

The breeze kicked up, carrying their laughter away. It was only a moment, just an intermission… but it was everything.

~_FIN_


End file.
